WARD'OF 

THE/GOLD 

ENN57VTE 

4  -;     ;;:  T    |^j    j 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN 
GATE 


BY 


BRET   HARTE 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 


1891 


Copyright,  1890, 
BY  BRET   IIARTE. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Prrsx,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U,  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  U.  0.  lloughtou  &  Company. 


95-5- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN 
GATE. 


PROLOGUE. 

IN  San  Francisco  the  "  rainy  season  "  had 
been  making  itself  a  reality  to  the  wonder 
ing  Eastern  immigrant.  There  were  short 
days  of  drifting  clouds  and  flying  sunshine, 
and  long  succeeding  nights  of  incessant 
downpour,  when  the  rain  rattled  on  the 
thin  shingles  or  drummed  on  the  resounding 
zinc  of  pioneer  roofs.  The  shifting  sand- 
dunes  on  the  outskirts  were  beaten  motion 
less  and  sodden  by  the  onslaught  of  consec 
utive  storms  ;  the  southeast  trades  brought 
the  saline  breath  of  the  outlying  Pacific 
even  to  the  busy  haunts  of  Commercial  and 
Kearney  streets ;  the  low- lying  Mission 
road  was  a  quagmire ;  along  the  City  Front, 
despite  of  piles  and  pier  and  wharf,  the 
Pacific  tides  still  asserted  themselves  in 
mud  and  ooze  as  far  as  Sansome  Street; 


2  A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  wooden  sidewalks  of  Clay  and  Montgom 
ery  streets  were  mere  floating  bridges  or 
buoyant  pontoons  superposed  on  elastic 
bogs  ;  Battery  Street  was  the  Silurian  beach 
of  that  early  period  on  which  tin  cans, 
packing-boxes,  freight,  household  furniture, 
and  even  the  runaway  crews  of.  deserted 
ships  had  been  cast  away.  There  were  dan 
gerous  and  unknown  depths  in  Montgomery 
Street  and  on  the  Plaza,  and  the  wheels  of 
a  passing  carriage  hopelessly  mired  had  to 
be  lifted  by  the  volunteer  hands  of  a  half 
dozen  high-booted  wayfarers,  whose  wearers 
were  sufficiently  content  to  believe  that  a 
woman,  a  child,  or  an  invalid  was  behind 
its  closed  windows,  without  troubling  them 
selves  or  the  occupant  by  looking  through 
the  glass. 

It  was  a  carriage  that,  thus  released, 
eventually  drew  up  before  the  superior  pub 
lic  edifice  known  as  the  City  Hall.  From 
it  a  woman,  closely  veiled,  alighted,  and 
quickly  entered  the  building.  A  few  pass 
ers-by  turned  to  look  at  her,  partly  from 
the  rarity  of  the  female  figure  at  that  pe 
riod,  and  partly  from  the  greater  rarity  of 
its  being  well  formed  and  even  ladylike. 

As  she  kept  her  way  along  the  corridor 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.     3 

and  ascended  an  iron  staircase,  she  was 
passed  by  others  more  preoccupied  in  busi 
ness  at  the  various  public  offices.  One  of 
these  visitors,  however,  stopped  as  if  struck 
by  some  fancied  resemblance  in  her  appear 
ance,  turned,  and  followed  her.  But  when 
she  halted  before  a  door  marked  "  Mayor's 
Office,"  he  paused  also,  and,  with  a  look  of 
half  humorous  bewilderment  and  a  slight 
glance  around  him  as  if  seeking  for  some 
one  to  whom  to  impart  his  arch  fancy,  he 
turned  away.  The  woman  then  entered  a 
large  anteroom  with  a  certain  quick  femi 
nine  gesture  of  relief,  and,  finding  it  empty 
of  other  callers,  summoned  the  porter,  and 
asked  him  some  question  in  a  voice  so  sup 
pressed  by  the  official  severity  of  the  apart 
ment  as  to  be  hardly  audible.  The  attend 
ant  replied  by  entering  another  room  marked 
"  Mayor's  Secretary,"  and  reappeared  with 
a  stripling  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  whose 
singularly  bright  eyes  were  all  that  was 
youthful  in  his  composed  features.  After 
a  slight  scrutiny  of  the  woman  —  half  boy 
ish,  half  official  —  he  desired  her  to  be 
seated,  with  a  certain  exaggerated  gravity 
as  if  he  was  over-acting  a  grown-up  part, 
and,  taking  a  card  from  her,  reentered  his 


4  A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

office.  Here,  however,  he  did  not  stand  on 
his  head  or  call  out  a  confederate  youth 
from  a  closet,  as  the  woman  might  have  ex 
pected.  To  the  left  was  a  green  baize  door, 
outlined  with  brass-studded  rivets  like  a 
cheerful  coffin-lid,  and  bearing  the  mortuary 
inscription,  "  Private."  This  he  pushed 
open,  and  entered  the  Mayor's  private 
office. 

The  municipal  dignitary  of  San  Francisco, 
although  an  erect,  soldier-like  man  of  strong 
middle  age,  was  seated  with  his  official  chair 
tilted  back  against  the  wall  and  kept  in  po 
sition  by  his  feet  on  the  rungs  of  another, 
which  in  turn  acted  as  a  support  for  a  sec 
ond  man,  who  was  seated  a  few  feet  from 
him  in  an  easy-chair.  Both  were  lazily 
smoking. 

The  Mayor  took  the  card  from  his  secre 
tary,  glanced  at  it,  said  "Hullo!"  and 
handed  it  to  his  companion,  who  read  aloud 
"Kate  Howard,"  and  gave  a  prolonged 
whistle. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  asked  the  Mayor. 

"  In  the  anteroom,  sir." 

"  Any  one  else  there  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Did  you  say  I  was  engaged  ?  " 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    5 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  but  it  appears  she  asked  Sam 
who  was  with  you,  and  when  he  told  her, 
she  said,  All  right,  she  wanted  to  see  Col 
onel  Pendleton  too." 

The  men  glanced  interrogatively  at  each 
other,  but  Colonel  Pendleton,  abruptly  an 
ticipating  the  Mayor's  functions,  said, 
"  Have  her  in,"  and  settled  himself  back 
in  his  chair. 

A  moment  later  the  door  opened,  and  the 
stranger  appeared.  As  she  closed  the  door 
behind  her  she  removed  her  heavy  veil,  and 
displayed  the  face  of  a  very  handsome 
woman  of  past  thirty.  It  is  only  necessary 
to  add  that  it  was  a  face  known  to  the  two 
men,  and  all  San  Francisco. 

"  Well,  Kate,"  said  the  Mayor,  motioning 
to  a  chair,  but  without  rising  or  changing 
his  attitude.  "  Here  I  am,  and  here  is 
Colonel  Pendleton,  and  these  are  office 
hours.  What  can  we  do  for  you  ?  " 

If  he  had  received  her  with  magisterial 
formality,  or  even  politely,  she  would  have 
been  embarrassed,  in  spite  of  a  certain  bold 
ness  of  her  dark  eyes  and  an  ever  present 
consciousness  of  her  power.  It  is  possible 
that  his  own  ease  and  that  of  his  companion 
was  part  of  their  instinctive  good  nature  and 


6  A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

perception.  She  accepted  it  as  such,  took 
the  chair  familiarly,  and  seated  herself  side 
ways  upon  it,  her  right  arm  half  encircling 
its  back  and  hanging  over  it ;  altogether  an 
easy  and  not  ungraceful  pose. 

"  Thank  you,  Jack  —  I  mean,  Mr.  Mayor 
—  and  you,  too,  Harry.  I  came  on  busi 
ness.  I  want  you  two  men  to  act  as  guar 
dians  for  my  little  daughter." 

"  Your  what  ?  "  asked  the  two  men  simul 
taneously. 

"My  daughter,"  she  repeated,  with  a 
short  laugh,  which,  however,  ended  with  a 
note  of  defiance.  "Of  course  you  don't 
know.  Well,"  she  added  half  aggressively, 
and  yet  with  the  air  of  hurrying  over  a  com 
promising  and  inexplicable  weakness,  "  the 
long  and  short  of  it  is  I  've  got  a  little  girl 
down  at  the  Convent  of  Santa  Clara,  and 
have  had  —  there  !  I  Ve  been  taking  care 
of  her  —  good  care,  too,  boys — for  some 
time.  And  now  I  want  to  put  things  square 
for  her  for  the  future.  See?  I  want  to 
make  over  to  her  all  my  property  —  it 's 
nigh  on  to  seventy-five  thousand  dollars,  for 
Bob  Snelling  put  me  up  to  getting  those 
water  lots  a  year  ago  —  and,  you  see,  I  '11 
have  to  have  regular  guardians,  trustees,  or 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.     7 

whatever  you  call  'em,  to  take  care  of  the 
money  for  her." 

"  Who  's  her  father  ?  "  asked  the  Mayor. 

"  What 's  that  to  do  with  it  ?  "  she  said 
impetuously. 

"Everything  —  because  he 's  her  natural 
guardian." 

44  Suppose  he  is  n't  known  ?  Say  dead, 
for  instance." 

44  Dead  will  do,"  said  the  Mayor  gravely. 
"  Yes,  dead  will  do,"  repeated  Colonel  Pen- 
dleton.  After  a  pause,  in  which  the  two 
men  seemed  to  have  buried  this  vague  rel 
ative,  the  Mayor  looked  keenly  at  the 
woman. 

44  Kate,  have  you  and  Bob  Ridley  had  a 
quarrel?  " 

44  Bob  Ridley  knows  too  much  to  quarrel 
with  me,"  she  said  briefly. 

44  Then  you  are  doing  this  for  no  motive 
other  than  that  which  you  tell  me  ?  " 

44  Certainly.  That 's  motive  enough  — 
ain't  it?" 

44  Yes."  The  Mayor  took  his  feet  off  his 
companion's  chair  and  sat  upright.  Col 
onel  Pendleton  did  the  same,  also  removing 
his  cigar  from  his  lips.  44 1  suppose  you  '11 
think  this  thing  over  ?  "  he  added. 


8     A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"No  —  I  want  it  done  now  —  right  here 
—  in  this  office.'* 

"  But  you  know  it  will  be  irrevocable." 

"That's  what  I  want  it  —  something 
might  happen  afterwards." 

"But  you  are  leaving  nothing  for  your 
self,  and  if  you  are  going  to  devote  every 
thing  to  this  daughter  and  lead  a  different 
life,  you'll"  — 

"Who  said  I  was?" 

The  two  men  paused,  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Look  here,  boys,  you  don't  understand. 
From  the  day  that  paper  is  signed,  I  've 
nothing  to  do  with  the  child.  She  passes 
out  of  my  hands  into  yours,  to  be  schooled, 
educated,  and  made  a  rich  girl  out  of  — 
and  never  to  know  who  or  what  or  where 
/am.  She  doesn't  know  now.  I  haven't 
given  her  and  myself  away  in  that  style  — 
you  bet !  She  thinks  I  'm  only  a  friend. 
She  hasn't  seen  me  more  than  once  or 
twice,  and  not  to  know  me  again.  Why,  I 
was  down  there  the  other  day,  and  passed 
her  walking  out  with  the  Sisters  and  the 
other  scholars,  and  she  did  n't  know  me  — 
though  one  of  the  Sisters  did.  But  they  're 
mum  —  they  are,  and  don't  let  on.  Why, 
now  I  think  of  it,  you  were  down  there, 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.     9 

Jack,  presiding  in  big  style  as  Mr.  Mayor 
at  the  exercises.  You  must  have  noticed 
her.  Little  thing,  about  nine  —  lot  of  hair, 
the  same  color  as  mine,  and  brown  eyes. 
White  and  yellow  sash.  Had  a  necklace 
on  of  real  pearls  I  gave  her.  /  bought  them, 
you  understand,  myself  at  Tucker's  —  gave 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  them  — 
and  a  big  bouquet  of  white  rosebuds  and 
lilacs  I  sent  her." 

"  I  remember  her  now  on  the  platform," 
said  the  Mayor  gravely.  "  So  that  is  your 
child?" 

"  You  bet  —  no  slouch  either.  But  that 's 
neither  here  nor  there.  What  I  want  now 
is  you  and  Harry  to  look  after  her  and  her 
property  the  same  as  if  I  did  n't  live.  More 
than  that,  as  if  I  had  never  lived.  I  've 
come  to  you  two  boys,  because  I  reckon 
you  're  square  men  and  won't  give  me  away. 
But  I  want  to  fix  it  even  firmer  than  that. 
I  want  you  to  take  hold  of  this  trust  not  as 
Jack  Hammersley,  but  as  the  Mayor  of  San 
Francisco  !  And  when  you  make  way  for 
a  new  Mayor,  lie,  takes  up  the  trust  by  vir 
tue  of  his  office,  you  see,  so  there  's  a  trustee 
all  along.  I  reckon  there  '11  always  be  a  San 
Francisco  and  always  a  Mayor  —  at  least  till 


10    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  child  's  of  age  ;  and  it  gives  her  from  the 
start  a  father,  and  a  pretty  big  one  too.  Of 
course  the  new  man  is  n't  to  know  the  why 
and  wherefore  of  this.  It 's  enough  for  him 
to  take  on  that  duty  with  his  others,  with 
out  asking  questions.  And  he 's  only  got  to 
invest  that  money  and  pay  it  out  as  it's 
wanted,  and  consult  Harry  at  times." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  with 
approving  intelligence.  "But  have  you 
thought  of  a  successor  for  me,  in  case  some 
body  shoots  me  on  sight  any  time  in  the 
next  ten  years  ? "  asked  Pendleton,  with  a 
gravity  equal  to  her  own. 

"  I  reckon,  as  you  're  President  of  the 
El  Dorado  Bank,  you  '11  make  that  a  part 
of  every  president's  duty  too.  You'll  get 
the  directors  to  agree  to  it,  just  as  Jack 
here  will  get  the  Common  Council  to  make 
it  the  Mayor's  business." 

The  two  men  had  risen  to  their  feet,  and, 
after  exchanging  glances,  gazed  at  her  si 
lently.  Presently  the  Mayor  said  :  — 

"  It  can  be  done,  Kate,  and  we  '11  do  it 
for  you  —  eh,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Count  me  in,"  said  Pendleton,  nodding. 

"  But  you  '11  want  a  third  man." 

"What's  that  for?" 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    H 

"The  casting  vote  in  case  of  any  diffi 
culty." 

The  woman's  face  fell.  "  I  reckoned  to 
keep  it  a  secret  with  only  you  two,"  she 
said  half  bitterly. 

"  No  matter.  We  '11  find  some  one  to 
act,  or  you  '11  think  of  somebody  and  let  us 
know." 

"  But  I  wanted  to  finish  this  thing  right 
here,"  she  said  impatiently.  She  was  silent 
for  a  moment,  with  her  arched  black  brows 
knitted.  Then  she  said  abruptly,  "  Who 's 
that  smart  little  chap  that  let  me  in  ?  He 
looks  as  if  he  might  be  trusted." 

"That's  Paul  Hathaway,  my  secretary. 
He 's  sensible,  but  too  young.  Stop  !  I 
don't  know  about  that.  There  's  no  legal 
age  necessary,  and  he  's  got  an  awfully  old 
head  on  him,"  said  the  Mayor  thoughtfully. 

"  And  /  say  his  youth  's  in  his  favor," 
said  Colonel  Pendleton,  promptly.  "  He  's 
been  brought  up  in  San  Francisco,  and  he 's 
got  no  d — d  old-fashioned  Eastern  notions 
to  get  rid  of,  and  will  drop  into  this  as  a 
matter  of  business,  without  prying  about  or 
wondering.  I'll  serve  with  him." 

"  Call  him  in !  "  said  the  woman. 

He  came.      Very  luminous  of   eye,  and 


12   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

composed  of  lip  and  brow.  Yet  with  the 
same  suggestion  of  "  making  believe  "  very 
much,  as  if  to  offset  the  possible  munching 
of  forbidden  cakes  and  apples  in  his  own 
room,  or  the  hidden  presence  of  some  still 
in  his  pocket. 

The  Mayor  explained  the  case  briefly,  but 
with  business-like  precision.  "  Your  duty, 
Mr.  Hathaway,"  he  concluded,  "  at  present 
will  be  merely  nominal  and,  above  all,  con 
fidential.  Colonel  Pendleton  and  myself 
will  set  the  thing  going."  As  the  youth  — 
who  had  apparently  taken  in  and  "  illumi 
nated  "  the  whole  subject  with  a  single 
bright-eyed  glance  —  bowed  and  was  about 
to  retire,  as  if  to  relieve  himself  of  his  real 
feelings  behind  the  door,  the  woman  stopped 
him  with  a  gesture. 

"  Let 's  have  this  thing  over  now,"  she 
said  to  the  Mayor.  "  You  draw  up  some 
thing  that  we  can  all  sign  at  once."  She 
fixed  her  eyes  on  Paul,  partly  to  satisfy  her 
curiosity  and  justify  her  predilection  for 
him,  and  partly  to  detect  him  in  any  overt 
act  of  boyishness.  But  the  youth  simply 
returned  her  glance  with  a  cheerful,  easy 
prescience,  as  if  her  past  lay  clearly  open 
before  him.  For  some  minutes  there  was 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE    13 

only  the  rapid  scratching  of  the  Mayor's 
pen  over  the  paper.  Suddenly  he  stopped 
and  looked  up. 

"  What 's  her  name  ?  " 

"  She  must  n't  have  mine,"  said  the  wo 
man  quickly.  "  That 's  a  part  of  my  idea. 
I  give  that  up  with  the  rest.  She  must 
take  a  new  name  that  gives  no  hint  of  me. 
Think  of  one,  can't  you,  you  two  men  ? 
Something  that  would  kind  of  show  that  she 
was  the  daughter  of  the  city,  you  know." 

"  You  could  n't  call  her  '  Santa  Francisca,' 
eh  ?  "  said  Colonel  Pendleton,  doubtingly. 

*'  Not  much,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  se 
riousness  that  defied  any  ulterior  insinuation. 

"  Nor  Chrysopolinia  ?  "  said  the  Mayor, 
musingly. 

"  But  that 's  only  a  first  name.  She  must 
have  a  family  name,"  said  the  woman  im 
patiently. 

"  Can  you  think  of  something,  Paul  ? " 
said  the  Mayor,  appealing  to  Hathaway. 
"  You  're  a  great  reader,  and  later  from 
your  classics  than  I  am."  The  Mayor, 
albeit  practical  and  Western,  liked  to  be 
ostentatiously  forgetful  of  his  old  Alma 
Mater,  Harvard,  on  occasions. 

"How  would  Yerba  Buena  do,  sir?  "  re- 


14         A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

sponded  the  youth  gravely.     "  It 's  the  olr1 
Spanish  title  of  the  first  settlement  here, 
conies  from  the  name  that  Father  Junipe. 
Serra  gave  to   the  pretty  little  vine   that 
grows  wild  over  the  sandhills,  and  means 
'  good  herb.'     He  called  it  '  A  balm  for  the 
wounded  and  sore.'  ' 

"  For  the  wounded  and  sore  ?  "  repeats 
the  woman  slowly. 

"  That 's  what  they  say,"  responded  Hatl 
away. 

"You  ain't  playing  us,  eh?"  she  said, 
with  a  half  laugh  that,  however,  scarcely 
curved  the  open  mouth  with  which  she  had 
been  regarding  the  young  secretary. 

"  No,"  said  the  Mayor,  hurriedly.  "  It 's 
true.  I  Ve  often  heard  it.  And  a  capital 
name  it  would  be  for  her  too.  Yerba  the 
first  name.  Buena  the  second.  She  could 
be  called  Miss  Buena  when  she  grows  up." 

"  Yerba  Buena  it  is,"  she  said  suddenly. 
Then,  indicating  the  youth  with  a  slight  toss 
of  her  handsome  head,  "  His  head  's  level 
—  you  can  see  that." 

There  was  a  silence  again,  and  the  scratch 
ing  of  the  Mayor's  pen  continued.  Colonel 
Pendleton  buttoned  up  his  coat,  pulled  his 
long  moustache  into  shape,  slightly  arranged 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   15 

Jiis  collar,  and  walked  to  the  window  with- 
,io  ut  looking  at  the  woman.     Presently  the 
oMayor  arose  from  his  seat,  and,  with  a  cer 
tain  formal  courtesy  that  had  been  wanting 
in  his  previous  manner,  handed  her  his  pen 
and  arranged  his  chair  for  her  at  the  desk. 
She  took  the  pen,  and  rapidly  appended  her 
ignature   to  the  paper.      The   others   fol- 
'owed ;  and,  obedient  to  a  sign  from  him, 
.>>he  porter  was  summoned  from  the  outer 
office  to  witness  the  signatures.     When  this 
was  over,  the  Mayor  turned  to  his  secretary. 
"  That 's  all  just  now,  Paul." 

Accepting  this  implied  dismissal  with  un 
disturbed  gravity,  the  newly  made  youthful 
guardian  bowed  and  retired.  When  the 
green  baize  door  had  closed  upon  him,  the 
Mayor  turned  abruptly  to  the  woman  with 
the  paper  in  his  hand. 

44  Look  here,  Kate  ;  there  is  still  time  for 
you  to  reconsider  your  action,  and  tear  up 
this  solitary  record  of  it.  If  you  choose  to 
do  so,  say  so,  and  I  promise  you  that  this 
interview,  and  all  you  have  told  us,  shall 
never  pass  beyond  these  walls.  No  one  will 
be  the  wiser  for  it,  and  we  will  give  you  full 
credit  for  having  attempted  something  that 
was  too  much  for  you  to  perform." 


16         A   WARD   OF   TUP:   GOLDEN  GATE. 

She  had  half  risen  from  her  chair  when 
he  began,  but  fell  back  again  in  her  former 
position  and  looked  impatiently  from  him  to 
his  companion,  who  was  also  regarding  her 
earnestly. 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  she  said 
sharply. 

"  You,  Kate,"  said  the  Mayor.  "  You 
have  given  everything  you  possess  to  this 
child.  What  provision  have  you  made  for 
yourself?" 

"  Do  I  look  played  out  ?  "  she  said,  facing 
them. 

She  certainly  did  not  look  like  anything 
but  a  strong,  handsome,  resolute  woman ; 
but  the  men  did  not  reply. 

"  That  is  not  all,  Kate,"  continued  the 
Mayor,  folding  his  arms  and  looking  down 
upon  her.  "  Have  you  thought  what  this 
means  ?  It  is  the  complete  renunciation  not 
only  of  any  claim  but  any  interest  in  your 
child.  That  is  what  you  have  just  signed, 
and  what  it  will  be  our  duty  now  to  keep 
you  to.  From  this  moment  we  stand  be 
tween  you  and  her,  as  we  stand  between  her 
and  the  world.  Are  you  ready  to  see  her 
grow  up  away  from  you,  losing  even  the  lit 
tle  recollection  she  has  had  of  your  kindness 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLD  JIN  GATE.         17 

—  passing  you  in  the  street  without  knowing 
you,  perhaps  even  having  you  pointed  out 
to  her  as  a  person  she  should  avoid  ?  Are 
you  prepared  to  shut  your  eyes  and  ears 
henceforth  to  all  that  you  may  hear  of  her 
new  life,  when  she  is  happy,  rich,  respec 
table,  a  courted  heiress  —  perhaps  the  wife 
of  some  great  man  ?  Are  you  ready  to  ac 
cept  that  she  will  never  know  — that  no  one 
will  ever  know  —  that  you  had  any  share  in 
making  her  so,  and  that  if  you  should  ever 
breathe  it  abroad  we  shall  hold  it  our  duty 
to  deny  it,  and  brand  the  man  who  takes  it 
up  for  you  as  a  liar  and  the  slanderer  of  an 
honest  girl  ?  " 

u  That 's  what  I  came  here  for,"  she  said 
curtly  ;  then,  regarding  them  curiously,  and 
running  her  ringed  hand  up  and  down  the 
railed  back  of  her  chair,  she  added,  with  a 
half  laugh,  "  What  are  you  playin'  me  for, 
boys  ?  " 

"But,"  said  Colonel  Pendleton,  without 
heeding  her,  "  are  you  ready  to  know  that 
in  sickness  or  affliction  you  will  be  power 
less  to  help  her ;  that  a  stranger  will  take 
your  place  at  her  bedside ;  that  as  she  has 
lived  without  knowing  you  she  will  die  with 
out  that  knowledge,  or  that  if  through  any 


18    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

weakness  of  yours  it  came  to  her  then,  it 
would  embitter  her  last  thoughts  of  earth 
and,  dying,  she  would  curse  you  ?  " 

The  smile  upon  her  half-open  mouth  still 
fluttered  around  it,  and  her  curved  fingers 
still  ran  up  and  down  the  rails  of  the  chair- 
back  as  if  they  were  the  cords  of  some  mute 
instrument,  to  which  she  was  trying  to  give 
voice.  Her  rings  once  or  twice  grated  upon 
them  as  if  she  had  at  times  gripped  tLem 
closely.  But  she  rose  quickly  when  he 
paused,  said  "  Yes,"  sharply,  and  put  the 
chair  back  against  the  wall. 

"  Then  I  will  send  you  copies  of  this  to 
morrow,  and  take  an  assignment  of  the  prop- 
erty." 

u  I  Ve  got  the  check  here  for  it  now," 
she  said,  drawing  it  from  her  pocket  and 
laying  it  upon  the  desk.  "  There,  I  reckon 
that  's  finished.  Good-by  !  " 

The  Mayor  took  up  his  hat,  Colonel  Pen- 
dleton  did  the  same  ;  both  men  preceded  her 
to  the  door,  and  held  it  open  with  grave  po 
liteness  for  her  to  pass. 

"  Where  are  you  boys  going  ?  "  she  asked, 
glancing  from  the  one  to  the  other. 

"  To  see  you  to  your  carriage,  Mrs.  How 
ard,"  said  the  Mayor,  in  a  voice  that  had  be 
come  somewhat  deeper. 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.         19 

"  Through  the  whole  building  ?  Past  all 
the  people  in  the  hall  and  on  the  stairs  ? 
Why,  I  passed  Dan  Stewart  as  I  came  in." 

"  If  you  will  allow  us  ?  "  he  said,  turning 
half  appealing  to  Colonel  Pendleton,  who, 
without  speaking,  made  a  low  bow  of  as 
sent. 

A  slight  flush  rose  to  her  face  —  the  first 
and  only  change  in  the  even  healthy  color 
she  had  shown  during  the  interview. 

"  I  reckon  I  won't  trouble  you,  boys,  if 
it 's  all  the  same  to  you,"  she  said,  with  her 
half-strident  laugh.  "  You  might  n't  mind 
being  seen  —  but  /  would  —  Good-by." 

She  held  out  a  hand  to  each  of  the  men, 
who  remained  for  an  instant  silently  holding 
them.  Then  she  passed  out  of  the  door, 
slipping  on  her  close  black  veil  as  she  did 
so  with  a  half-funereal  suggestion,  and  they 
saw  her  tall,  handsome  figure  fade  into  the 
shadows  of  the  long  corridor. 

"  Paul,"  said  the  Mayor,  reentering  the 
office  and  turning  to  his  secretary,  "  do  you 
know  who  that  woman  is  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  She 's  one  in  a  million  !  And  now  for 
get  that  you  have  ever  seen  her." 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  principal  parlor  of  the  New  Golden 
Gate  Hotel  in  San  Francisco,  fairly  reported 
by  the  local  press  as  being  "  truly  palatial  " 
in  its  appointments,  and  unrivaled  in  its 
upholstery,  was,  nevertheless,  on  August  5, 
1860,  of  that  startling  newness  that  checked 
any  familiarity,  and  evidently  had  produced 
some  embarrassment  on  the  limbs  of  four 
visitors  who  had  just  been  ushered  into  its 
glories.  After  hesitating  before  one  or  two 
gorgeous  fawn-colored  brocaded  easy-chairs 
of  appalling  and  spotless  virginity,  one  of 
them  seated  himself  despairingly  on  a  tete- 
a-tete  sofa  in  marked  and  painful  isolation, 
while  another  sat  uncomfortably  upright  on 
a  sofa.  The  two  others  remained  standing, 
vaguely  gazing  at  the  ceiling,  and  exchan 
ging  ostentatiously  admiring  but  hollow  re 
marks  about  the  furniture  in  unnecessary 
whispers.  Yet  they  were  apparently  men 
of  a  certain  habit  of  importance  and  small 
authority,  with  more  or  less  critical  attitude 
in  their  speech. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    21 

To  them  presently  entered  a  young  man 
of  about  five-and-twenty,  with  remarkably 
bright  and  singularly  sympathetic  eyes. 
Having  swept  the  group  in  a  smiling  glance, 
he  singled  out  the  lonely  occupier  of  the 
tete-a-tete,  and  moved  pleasantly  towards 
him.  The  man  rose  instantly  with  an  eager 
gratified  look. 

"  Well,  Paul,  I  did  n't  allow  you  'd  re 
member  me.  It's  a  matter  of  four  years 
since  we  met  at  Marysville.  And  now  you  're 
bein'  a  great  man  you  've  "  — 

No  one  could  have  known  from  the  young 
man's  smiling  face  that  he  really  had  not 
recognized  his  visitor  at  first,  and  that  his 
greeting  was  only  an  exhibition  of  one  of 
those  happy  instincts  for  which  he  was  re 
markable.  But,  following  the  clew  suggested 
by  his  visitor,  he  was  able  to  say  promptly 
and  gayly :  — 

"•  I  don't  know  why  I  should  forget  Tony 
Shear  or  the  Marysville  boys,"  turning  with 
a  half -confiding  smile  to  the  other  visitors, 
who,  after  the  human  fashion,  were  begin 
ning  to  be  resentfully  impatient  of  this  spe 
cial  attention. 

"  Well,  no,  —  for  I  've  allus  said  that  you 
took  your  first  start  from  Marysville,  But 


22    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

I  've  brought  a  few  friends  of  our  party  that 
I  reckoned  to  introduce  to  you.  Cap'n 
Stidger,  Chairman  of  our  Central  Commit 
tee,  Mr.  Henry  J.  Hoskins,  of  the  firm  of 
Hoskins  and  Bloomer,  and  Joe  Slate,  of  the 
'Union  Press,'  one  of  our  most  promising 
journalists.  Gentlemen,"  he  continued,  sud 
denly  and  without  warning  lifting  his  voice 
to  an  oratorical  plane  in  startling  contrast 
to  his  previous  unaffected  utterance,  "I 
need  n't  say  that  this  is  the  Honorable  Paul 
Hathaway,  the  youngest  state  senator  in  the 
Legislature.  You  know  his  record  !  "  Then, 
recovering  the  ordinary  accents  of  humanity, 
he  added,  "  "VVe  read  of  your  departure  last 
night  from  Sacramento,  and  I  thought  we  'd 
come  early,  afore  the  crowd." 

"  Proud  to  know  you,  sir,"  said  Captain 
Stidger,  suddenly  lifting  the  conversation  to 
the  platform  again.  "  I  have  followed  your 
career,  sir.  I  've  read  your  speech,  Mr. 
Hathaway,  and,  as  I  was  telling  our  mutual 
friend,  Mr.  Shear,  as  we  came  along,  I  don't 
know  any  man  that  could  state  the  real  party 
issues  as  squarely.  Your  castigating  exposi 
tion  of  so-called  Jeffersonian  principles,  and 
your  relentless  indictment  of  the  resolutions 
of  '98,  were  —  were  "  -  coughed  the  cap- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   23 

tain,  dropping  into  conversation  again  — 
"  were  the  biggest  thing  out.  You  have  only 
to  signify  the  day,  sir,  that  you  will  address 
us,  and  I  can  promise  you  the  largest  audi 
ence  in  San  Francisco." 

"  I  'm  instructed  by  the  proprietor  of  the 
'  Union  Press,' "  said  Mr.  Slate,  feeling  for 
his  notebook  and  pencil,  "  to  offer  you  its 
columns  for  any  explanations  you  may  de 
sire  to  make  in  the  form  of  a  personal  letter 
or  an  editorial  in  reply  to  the  '  Advertiser's ' 
strictures  on  your  speech,  or  to  take  any  in 
formation  you  may  have  for  the  benefit  of 
our  readers  and  the  party." 

"If  you  are  ever  down  my  way,  Mr. 
Hathaway,"  said  Mr.  Hoskins,  placing  a 
large  business  card  in  Hathaway's  hand, 
"  and  will  drop  in  as  a  friend,  I  can  show 
you  about  the  largest  business  in  the  way  of 
canned  provisions  and  domestic  groceries  in 
the  State,  and  give  you  a  look  around  Bat 
tery  Street  generally.  Or  if  you  '11  name 
your  day,  I  've  got  a  pair  of  2.35  Blue  Grass 
horses  that  '11  spin  you  out  to  the  Cliff  House 
to  dinner  and  back.  I  've  had  Governor 
Fiske,  and  Senator  Doolan,  and  that  big 
English  capitalist  who  was  here  last  year, 
and  they  —  well,  sir,  —  they  were  pleased  ! 


24     WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

Or  if  you'd  like  to  see  the  town — if  this 
is  your  first  visit  —  I  'in  a  hand  to  show 
you." 

Nothing  could  exceed  Mr.  Hathaway's 
sympathetic  acceptance  of  their  courtesies, 
nor  was  there  the  least  affectation  in  it. 
Thoroughly  enjoying  his  fellowmen,  even  in 
their  foibles,  they  found  him  irresistibly  at 
tractive.  "I  lived  here  seven  years  ago," 
he  said,  smiling,  to  the  last  speaker. 

"  When  the  water  came  up  to  Montgom 
ery  Street,"  interposed  Mr.  Shear,  in  a 
hoarse  but  admiring  aside. 

"  When  Mr.  Hammersley  was  mayor," 
continued  Hathaway. 

"  Had  an  official  position  —  private  sec 
retary —  afore  he  was  twenty,"  explained 
Shear,  in  perfectly  audible  confidence. 

"  Since  then  the  city  has  made  great 
strides,  leaping  full-grown,  sir,  in  a  single 
night,"  said  Captain  Stidger,  hastily  ascend 
ing  the  rostrum  again  with  a  mixed  meta 
phor,  to  the  apparent  concern  of  a  party  of 
handsomely  dressed  young  ladies  who  had 
recently  entered  the  parlor.  "  Stretching 
from  South  Park  to  Black  Point,  and  run 
ning  back  to  the  Mission  Dolores  and  the 
Presidio,  we  are  building  up  a  metropolis, 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    25 

sir,  worthy  to  be  placed  beside  the  Golden 
Gate  that  opens  to  the  broad  Pacific  and  the 
shores  of  far  Cathay !  When  the  Pacific 
Railroad  is  built  we  shall  be  the  natural 
terminus  of  the  Pathway  of  Nations !  " 

Mr.  Hathaway 's  face  betrayed  no  con 
sciousness  that  he  had  heard  something  like 
this  eight  years  before,  and  that  much  of  it 
had  come  true,  as  he  again  sympathetically 
responded.  Neither  was  his  attention  at 
tracted  by  a  singular  similarity  which  the 
attitude  of  the  group  of  ladies  on  the  other 
side  of  the  parlor  bore  to  that  of  his  own 
party.  They  were  clustered  around  one  of 
their  own  number  —  a  striking-looking  girl 
—  who  was  apparently  receiving  their  min 
gled  flatteries  and  caresses  with  a  youthful 
yet  critical  sympathy,  which,  singularly 
enough,  was  not  unlike  his  own.  It  was  evi 
dent  also  that  an  odd  sort  of  rivalry  seemed 
to  spring  up  between  the  two  parties,  and 
that,  in  proportion  as  Hathaway's  admirers 
became  more  marked  and  ostentatious  in 
their  attentions,  the  supporters  of  the  young 
girl  were  equally  effusive  and  enthusiastic 
in  their  devotion.  As  usual  in  such  cases, 
the  real  contest  was  between  the  partisans 
themselves ;  each  successive  demonstration 


26    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

on  either  side  was  provocative  or  retaliatory, 
and  when  they  were  apparently  rendering 
homage  to  their  idols  they  were  really  dis 
tracted  by  and  listening  to  each  other.  At 
last,  Hathaway's  party  being  reinforced  by 
fresh  visitors,  a  tall  brunette  of  the  opposi 
tion  remarked  in  a  professedly  confidential 
but  perfectly  audible  tone  :  — 

"  Well,  my  dear,  as  I  don't  suppose  you 
want  to  take  part  in  a  political  caucus,  per 
haps  we  'd  better  return  to  the  Ladies'  Bou 
doir,  unless  there 's  a  committee  sitting  there 
too." 

"  I  know  how  valuable  your  time  must  be, 
as  you  are  all  business  men,"  said  Hatha 
way,  turning  to  his  party,  in  an  equally  au 
dible  tone  ;  "  but  before  you  go,  gentlemen, 
you  must  let  me  offer  you  a  little  refresh 
ment  in  a  private  room,"  and  he  moved  nat 
urally  towards  the  door.  The  rival  fair,  who 
had  already  risen  at  their  commander's  sug 
gestion,  here  paused  awkwardly  over  an  em 
barrassing  victory.  Should  they  go  or  stay  ? 
The  object  of  their  devotion,  however,  turned 
curiously  towards  Hathaway.  For  an  in 
stant  their  eyes  met.  The  young  girl  turned 
carelessly  to  her  companions  and  said,  "  No ; 
stay  here  —  it 's  the  public  parlor  ; "  and  her 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    27 

followers,  evidently  accustomed  to  her  au 
thority,  sat  down  again. 

"  A  galaxy  of  young  ladies  from  the  Con 
vent  of  Santa  Clara,  Mr.  Hathaway,"  ex 
plained  Captain  Stidger,  naively  oblivious  of 
any  discourtesy  on  their  part,  as  he  followed 
Hathaway's  glance  and  took  his  arm  as  they 
moved  away.  "  Not  the  least  of  our  treas 
ures,  sir.  Most  of  them  daughters  of  pio 
neers  —  and  all  Californian  bred  and  edu 
cated.  Connoisseurs  have  awarded  them 
the  palm,  and  declare  that  for  Grace,  Intel 
ligence,  and  Woman's  Highest  Charms  the 
East  cannot  furnish  their  equal !  "  Having 
delivered  this  Parthian  compliment  in  an 
oratorical  passage  through  the  doorway,  the 
captain  descended,  outside,  into  familiar 
speech.  "  But  I  suppose  you  will  find  that 
out  for  yourself  if  you  stay  here  long.  San 
Francisco  might  furnish  a  fitting  bride  to 
California's  youngest  senator." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  my  stay  here  must  be 
brief,  and  limited  to  business,"  said  Hatha 
way,  who  had  merely  noticed  that  the  prin 
cipal  girl  was  handsome  and  original-look 
ing.  "  In  fact,  I  am  here  partly  to  see  an 
old  acquaintance  —  Colonel  Pendleton." 

The  three  men  looked  at  each  other  cu- 


28    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

riously.  "  Oh !  Harry  Pendleton,"  said  Mr. 
Hoskins,  incredulously.  "  You  don't  know 
kirn?" 

"  An  old  pioneeer  —  of  course,"  inter 
posed  Shear,  explanatorily  and  apologeti 
cally.  "  Why,  in  Paul's  time  the  colonel 
was  a  big  man  here." 

"  I  understand  the  colonel  has  been  un 
fortunate,"  said  Hathaway,  gravely  ;  "  but 
in  my  time  he  was  President  of  the  El  Do 
rado  Bank." 

"  And  the  bank  has  n't  got  through  its 
settlement  yet,"  said  Hoskins.  "  I  hope  you 
ain't  expecting  to  get  anything  out  of  it  ? '* 

"  No,"  said  Hathaway,  smiling ;  "  I  was  a 
boy  at  that  time,  and  lived  up  to  my  salary. 
I  know  nothing  of  his  bank  difficulties,  but 
it  always  struck  me  that  Colonel  Pendleton 
was  himself  an  honorable  man." 

"  It  ain't  that,"  said  Captain  Stidger,  en 
ergetically,  "but  the  trouble  with  Harry 
Pendleton  is  that  he  has  n't  grown  with  the 
State,  and  never  adjusted  himself  to  it.  And 
he  won't.  He  thinks  the  Millennium  was 
between  the  fall  of  '49  and  the  spring  of 
'50,  and  after  that  everything  dropped.  He 
belongs  to  the  old  days,  when  a  man's  sim 
ple  word  was  good  for  any  amount  if  you 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    29 

knew  him ;  and  they  say  that  the  old  bank 
had  n't  a  scrap  of  paper  for  half  that  was 
owing  to  it.  That  was  all  very  well,  sir,  in 
'49  and  '50,  and  —  Luck ;  but  it  won't  do 
for  '59  and  '60,  and  —  Business  !  And  the 
old  man  can't  see  it." 

"  But  he  is  ready  to  fight  for  it  now,  as  in 
the  old  time,"  said  Mr.  Slate,  "  and  that 's 
another  trouble  with  his  chronology.  He 's 
done  more  to  keep  up  dueling  than  any 
other  man  in  the  State,  and  don't  know  the 
whole  spirit  of  progress  and  civilization  is 
against  it." 

It  was  impossible  to  tell  from  Paul  Hath- 
away's  face  whether  his  sympathy  with  Col 
onel  Pendleton's  foibles  or  his  assent  to  the 
criticisms  of  his  visitors  was  the  truer.  Both 
were  no  doubt  equally  sincere.  But  the 
party  was  presently  engaged  in  the  absorp 
tion  of  refreshment,  which,  being  of  a  purely 
spirituous  and  exhilarating  quality,  tended 
to  increase  their  good  humor  with  the  host 
till  they  parted.  Even  then  a  gratuitous 
advertisement  of  his  virtues  and  their  own 
intentions  in  calling  upon  him  was  oratori- 
cally  voiced  from  available  platforms  and 
landings,  in  the  halls  and  stairways,  until  it 
was  pretty  well  known  throughout  the 


30    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

Golden  Gate  Hotel  that  the  Hon.  Mr.  Paul 
Hathaway  had  arrived  from  Sacramento  and 
had  received  a  "  spontaneous  ovation." 

Meantime  the  object  of  it  had  dropped 
into  an  easy-chair  by  the  window  of  his 
room,  and  was  endeavoring  to  recall  a  less 
profitable  memory.  The  process  of  human 
forgetfulness  is  not  a  difficult  one  between 
the  ages  of  eighteen  and  twenty-six,  and 
Paul  Hathaway  had  not  only  fulfilled  the 
Mayor's  request  by  forgetting  the  particulars 
of  a  certain  transfer  that  he  had  witnessed 
in  the  Mayor's  office,  but  in  the  year  suc 
ceeding  that  request,  being  about  to  try  his 
fortunes  in  the  mountains,  he  had  formally 
constituted  Colonel  Pendleton  to  act  as  his 
proxy  in  the  administration  of  Mrs.  How 
ard's  singular  Trust,  in  which,  however,  he 
had  never  participated  except  yearly  to  sign 
his  name.  He  was,  consequently,  somewhat 
astonished  to  have  received  a  letter  a  few 
days  before  from  Colonel  Pendleton,  asking 
him  to  call  and  see  him  regarding  it. 

He  vaguely  remembered  that  it  was  eight 
years  ago,  and  eight  years  had  worked  con 
siderable  change  in  the  original  trustees, 
greatest  of  all  in  his  superior  officer,  the 
Mayor,  who  had  died  the  year  following, 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    31 

leaving  his  trusteeship  to  his  successor  in 
office,  whom  Paul  Hathaway  had  never  seen. 
The  Bank  of  El  Dorado,  despite  Mrs.  How 
ard's  sanguine  belief,  had  long  been  in 
bankruptcy,  and,  although  Colonel  Pendle- 
ton  still  survived  it,  it  was  certain  that  no 
other  president  would  succeed  to  his  office 
as  trustee,  and  that  the  function  would  lapse 
with  him,  Paul  himself,  a  soldier  of  for 
tune,  although  habitually  lucky,  had  only 
lately  succeeded  to  a  profession  —  if  his  po 
litical  functions  could  be  so  described.  Even 
with  his  luck,  energy,  and  ambition,  while 
everything  was  possible,  nothing  was  secure. 
It  seemed,  therefore,  as  if  the  soulless  offi 
cial  must  eventually  assume  the  duties  of 
the  two  sympathizing  friends  who  had  origi 
nated  them,  and  had  stood  in  loco  parentis 
to  the  constructive  orphan.  The  mother, 
Mrs.  Howard,  had  disappeared  a  year  after 
the  Trust  had  been  made  —  it  was  charita 
bly  presumed  in  order  to  prevent  any  com 
plications  that  might  arise  from  her  presence 
in  the  country.  With  these  facts  before 
him,  Paul  Hathaway  was  more  concerned  in 
wondering  what  Pendleton  could  want  with 
him  than,  I  fear,  any  direct  sympathy  with 
the  situation.  On  the  contrary,  it  appeared 


32    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

to  him  more  favorable  for  keeping  the  secret 
of  Mrs.  Howard's  relationship,  which  would 
now  die  with  Colonel  Pendleton  and  him 
self  ;  and  there  was  no  danger  of  any  emo 
tional  betrayal  of  it  in  the  cold  official  ad 
ministration  of  a  man  who  had  received  the 
Trust  through  the  formal  hands  of  succes 
sive  predecessors.  He  had  forgotten  the 
time  limited  for  the  guardianship,  but  the 
girl  must  soon  be  of  age  and  off  their  hands. 
If  there  had  ever  been  any  romantic  or 
chivalrous  impression  left  upon  his  memory 
by  the  scene  in  the  mayor's  office,  I  fear  he 
had  put  it  away  with  various  other  foolish 
illusions  of  his  youth,  to  which  he  now  be 
lieved  he  was  superior. 

Nevertheless,  he  would  see  the  colonel, 
and  at  once,  and  settle  the  question.  He 
looked  at  the  address,  "  St.  Charles  Hotel." 
He  remembered  an  old  hostelry  of  that 
name,  near  the  Plaza.  Could  it  be  possible 
that  it  had  survived  the  alterations  and  im 
provements  of  the  city?  It  was  an  easy 
walk  through  remembered  streets,  yet  with 
changed  shops  and  houses  and  faces.  When 
he  reached  the  Plaza,  scarce  recognizable  in 
its  later  frontages  of  brick  and  stone,  he 
found  the  old  wooden  building  still  intact, 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    33 

with  its  villa-like  galleries  and  verandas  in 
congruously  and  ostentatiously  overlooked 
by  two  new  and  aspiring  erections  on  either 
side.  For  an  instant  he  tried  to  recall  the 
glamour  of  old  days.  He  remembered  when 
his  boyish  eyes  regarded  it  as  the  crowning 
work  of  opulence  and  distinction ;  he  re 
membered  a  ball  given  there  on  some  public 
occasion,  which  was  to  him  the  acme  of  so 
cial  brilliancy  and  display.  How  tawdry 
and  trivial  it  looked  beside  those  later  and 
more  solid  structures !  How  inconsistent 
were  those  long  latticed  verandas  and  bal 
conies,  pathetic  record  of  that  first  illusion 
of  the  pioneers  that  their  climate  was  a 
tropical  one !  A  restaurant  and  billiard- 
saloon  had  aggrandized  all  of  the  lower 
story ;  but  there  wras  still  the  fanlight,  over 
which  the  remembered  title  of  "  St.  Charles," 
in  gilded  letters,  was  now  reinforced  by  the 
too  demonstrative  legend,  "  Apartments  and 
Board,  by  the  Day  or  Week."  Was  it  pos 
sible  that  this  narrow,  creaking  staircase  had 
once  seemed  to  him  the  broad  steps  of  Fame 
and  Fortune  ?  On  the  first  landing,  a  pre 
occupied  Irish  servant-girl,  with  a  mop,  di 
rected  him  to  a  door  at  the  end  of  the  pas 
sage,  at  which  he  knocked.  The  door  was 


34         A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

opened  by  a  grizzled  negro  servant,  who  was 
still  holding  a  piece  of  oily  chamois-leather 
in  his  hand  ;  and  the  contents  of  a  dueling- 
case,  scattered  upon  a  table  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  showed  what  had  been  his  occu 
pation.  Admitting  Hathaway  with  great 
courtesy,  he  said :  — 

"  Marse  Harry  bin  havin'  his  qle  trubble, 
sah,  and  bin  engaged  just  dis  momen'  on 
his  toylet ;  ef  yo'll  accommodate  yo'self  on  de 
sofa,  I  inform  him  yo'  is  heah." 

As  the  negro  passed  into  the  next  room, 
Paul  cast  a  hasty  glance  around  the  apart 
ment.  The  furniture,  originally  rich  and 
elegant,  was  now  worn  threadbare  and  lus 
treless.  A  book  -  case,  containing,  among 
other  volumes,  a  few  law  books  —  there  be 
ing  a  vague  tradition,;  as  Paul  remembered, 
that  Colonel  Pendleton  had  once  been  con 
nected  with  the  law  —  a  few  French  chairs 
of  tarnished  gilt,  a  rifle  in  the  corner,  a 
presentation  sword  in  a  mahogany  case,  a 
few  classical  prints  on  the  walls,  and  one  or 
two  iron  deed-boxes  marked  "  El  Dorado 
Bank,"  were  the  principal  objects.  A  mild 
flavor  of  dry  decay  and  methylated  spirits 
pervaded  the  apartment.  Yet  it  was  scru 
pulously  clean  and  well  kept,  and  a  few 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    35 

clothes  neatly  brushed  and  folded  on  a  chair 
bore  witness  to  the  servant's  care.  As  Paul, 
however,  glanced  behind  the  sofa,  he  was 
concerned  to  see  a  coat,  which  had  evidently 
been  thrust  hurriedly  in  a  corner,  with  the 
sleeve  lining  inside  out,  and  a  needle  and 
thread  still  sticking  in  the  seam.  It  struck 
him  instantly  that  this  had  been  the  negro's 
occupation,  and  that  the  pistol-cleaning  was 
a  polite  fiction. 

"  Yo'  '11  have  to  skuse  Marse  Harry  seem' 
yo  in  bed,  but  his  laig  's  pow'ful  bad  to-day, 
and  he  can't  stand,"  said  the  servant  reen- 
tering  the  room.  "  Skuse  me,  sah,"  he 
added  in  a  dignified  confidential  whisper, 
half  closing  the  door  with  his  hand,  "  but  if 
yo'  would  n't  mind  avoidin'  'xcitin'  or  con- 
troversical  topics  in  yo'  conversation,  it  would 
be  de  better  fo'  him." 

Paul  smilingly  assented,  and  the  black  re 
tainer,  with  even  more  than  the  usual  sol 
emn  ceremonious  exaggeration  of  his  race, 
ushered  him  into  the  bedroom.  It  was  fur 
nished  in  the  same  faded  glory  as  the  sit 
ting-room,  with  the  exception  of  a  low,  iron 
camp-bedstead,  in  which  the  tall,  soldierly 
figure  of  Colonel  Pendleton,  clad  in  thread 
bare  silk  dressing-gown,  was  stretched.  He 


36    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

had  changed  in  eight  years :  his  hair  had 
become  gray,  and  was  thinned  over  the 
sunken  temples,  but  his  iron-gray  moustache 
was  still  particularly  long  and  well  pointed. 
His  face  bore  marks  of  illness  and  care; 
there  were  deep  lines  down  the  angle  of  the 
nostril  that  spoke  of  alternate  savage  out 
break  and  repression,  and  gave  his  smile  a 
sardonic  rigidity.  His  dark  eyes,  that  shone 
with  the  exaltation  of  fever,  fixed  Paul's  on 
entering,  and  with  the  tyranny  of  an  invalid 
never  left  them. 

"Well,  Hathaway?" 

With  the  sound  of  that  voice  Paul  felt 
the  years  slip  away,  and  he  was  again  a  boy, 
looking  up  admiringly  to  the  strong  man, 
who  now  lay  helpless  before  him.  He  had 
entered  the  room  with  a  faint  sense  of  sym 
pathizing  superiority  and  a  consciousness  of 
having  had  experience  in  controlling  men. 
•But  all  this  fled  before  Colonel  Pendleton's 
authoritative  voice  ;  even  its  broken  tones 
carried  the  old  dominant  spirit  of  the  man, 
and  Paul  found '  himself  admiring  a  quality 

in  his  old  acquaintance  that  he  missed  in 
,  .  £  •  i  • 

his  newer  friends. 

"  I  have  n't  seen  you  for  eight  years, 
Hathaway.  Come  here  and  let  me  look  at 
you." 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    37 

Paul  approached  the  bedside  with  boyish 
obedience.  Pendleton  took  his  hand  and 
gazed  at  him  critically. 

"  I  should  have  recognized  you,  sir,  for 
all  your  moustache  and  your  inches.  The 
last  time  I  saw  you  was  in  Jack  Hammers- 
ley's  office.  Well,  Jack  's  dead,  and  here  / 
am,  little  better,  I  reckon.  You  remember 
Hammersley's  house  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul,  albeit  wondering  at  the 
question. 

"  Something  like  this,  Swiss  villa  style.  I 
remember  when  Jack  put  it  up.  Well,  the 
last  time  I  was  out,  I  passed  there.  And 
what  do  you  think  they  've  done  to  it  ?  " 

Paul  could  not  imagine. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  colonel  gravely, 
"  they  've  changed  it  into  a  church  missionary 
shop  and  young  men's  Christian  reading- 
room  !  But  that 's  '  progress '  and  4  improve 
ment  ' !  "  He  paused,  and,  slowly  with 
drawing  his  hand  from  Paul's,  added  with 
grim  apology,  "  You  're  young,  and  belong 
to  the  new  school,  perhaps.  Well,  sir,  I  've 
read  your  speech ;  I  don't  belong  to  your 
party  —  mine  died  ten  years  ago  —  but  I 
congratulate  you.  George  !  Confound  it ! 
where  's  that  boy  gone  ?  " 


38         A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

The  negro  indicated  by  this  youthful  title, 
although  he  must  have  been  ten  years  older 
than  his  master,  after  a  hurried  shuffling  in 
the  sitting-room  eventually  appeared  at  the 
door. 

"  George,  champagne  and  materials  for 
cocktails  for  the  gentleman.  The  best,  you 
understand.  No  new-fangled  notions  from 
that  new  barkeeper." 

Paul,  who  thought  he  observed  a  troubled 
blinking  in  George's  eyelid,  and  referred  it 
to  a  fear  of  possible  excitement  for  his  pa 
tient,  here  begged  his  host  not  to  trouble 
himself  —  that  he  seldom  took  anything  in 
the  morning. 

"Possibly  not,  sir ;  possibly  not,"  returned 
the  colonel,  hastily.  "  I  know  the  new 
ideas  are  prohibitive,  and  some  other  blank 
thing,  but  you  're  safe  here  from  your  con 
stituents,  and  by  gad,  sir,  I  shan't  force  you 
to  take  it !  It 's  my  custom,  Hathaway  —  an 
old  one  —  played  out,  perhaps,  like  all  the 
others,  but  a  custom  nevertheless,  and  I  'm 
only  surprised  that  George,  who  knows  it, 
should  have  forgotten  it." 

"Fack  is,  Marse  Harry,"  said  George, 
with  feverish  apology,  uit  bin  gone  'scaped 
my  mind  dis  mo'nin'  in  de  prorogation  ob 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE.         39 

business,  but  -I  'm  goin'  now,  shuah  !  "  and 
he  disappeared. 

"  A  good  boy,  sir,  but  beginning  to  be 
contaminated.  Brought  him  here  from 
Nashville  over  ten  years  ago.  Eight  years 
ago  they  proved  to  him  that  he  was  no  longer 
a  slave,  and  made  him  d — d  unhappy  until 
I  promised  him  it  should  make  no  difference 
to  him  and  he  could  stay.  I  had  to  send  for 
his  wife  and  child  —  of  course,  a  dead  loss 
of  eighteen  hundred  dollars  when  they  set 
foot  in  the  State  —  but  I  'm  blanked  if  he 
is  n't  just  as  miserable  with  them  here,  for 
he  has  to  take  two  hours  in  the  morning  and 
three  in  the  afternoon  every  day  to  be  with 
'em.  I  tried  to  get  him  to  take  his  family 
to  the  mines  and  make  his  fortune,  like  those 
fellows  they  call  bankers  and  operators  and 
stockbrokers  nowadays ;  or  to  go  to  Oregon 
where  they  '11  make  him  some  kind  of  a  mayor 
or  sheriff  —  but  he  won't.  He  collects  my 
rents  on  some  little  property  I  have  left,  and 
pays  my  bills,  sir,  and,  if  this  blank  civiliza 
tion  would  only  leave  him  alone,  he'd  be  a 
good  enough  boy." 

Paul  could  n't  help  thinking  that  the  rents 
George  collected  were  somewhat  inconsistent 
with  those  he  was  evidently  mending  when 


40    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

he  arrived,  but  at  that  moment  the  jingle  of 
glasses  was  heard  in  the  sitting-room,  and 
the  old  negro  reappeared  at  the  door.  Draw 
ing  himself  up  with  ceremonious  courtesy, 
he  addressed  Paul.  "  Wo'd  yo'  mind,  sah, 
taking  a  glance  at  de  wine  for  yo'  choice  ?  " 
Paul  rose,  and  followed  him  into  the  sitting- 
room,  when  George  carefully  closed  the  door. 
To  his  surprise  Hathaway  beheld  a  tray  with 
two  glasses  of  whiskey  and  bitters,  but  no 
wine.  "  Skuse  me,  sah,"  said  the  old  man 
with  dignified  apology,  "  but  de  Kernel  won't 
have  any  but  de  best  champagne  for  hono'ble 
gemmen  like  yo'self,  and  I  'se  despaired  to 
say  it  can't  be  got  in  de  house  or  de  sub- 
burbs.  De  best  champagne  dat  we  gives 
visitors  is  de  Widder  Glencoe.  Wo'd  yo' 
mind,  sah,  for  de  sake  o'  not  'xcitin'  de  Ker 
nel  wid  triflin'  culinary  matter,  to  say  dat 
yo'  don'  take  but  de  one  brand  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  Paul,  smiling.  "I 
really  don't  care  for  anything  so  early ; " 
then,  returning  to  the  bedroom,  he  said  care 
lessly,  "  You  '11  excuse  me  taking  the  lib 
erty,  colonel,  of  sending  away  the  champagne 
and  contenting  myself  with  whiskey.  Even 
the  best  brand  —  the  Widow  Cliquot" — 
with  a  glance  at  the  gratified  George  —  "I 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    41 

find   rather   trying   so  early  in   the   morn 
ing." 

"As  you  please,  Hathaway,"  said  the 
colonel,  somewhat  stiffly.  "I  dare  say 
there 's  a  new  fashion  in  drinks  now,  and  a 
gentleman's  stomach  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 
Then,  I  suppose,  we  can  spare  the  boy,  as 
this  is  his  time  for  going  home.  Put  that 
tin  box  with  the  Trust  papers  on  the  bed, 
George,  and  Mr.  Hathaway  will  excuse  your 
waiting."  As  the  old  servant  made  an  ex 
aggerated  obeisance  to  each,  Paul  remarked, 
as  the  door  closed  upon  him,  "  George  cer 
tainly  keeps  his  style,  colonel,  in  the  face  of 
the  progress  you  deplore." 

"  He  was  always  a  4  dandy  nigger,'  "  re 
turned  Pendleton,  his  face  slightly  relaxing 
as  he  glanced  after  his  grizzled  henchman, 
"  but  his  exaggeration  of  courtesy  is  a  blank 
sight  more  natural  and  manly  than  the  exag 
geration  of  discourtesy  which  your  superior 
civilized  *  helps '  think  is  self-respect.  The 
excuse  of  servitude  of  any  kind  is  its  spon 
taneity  and  affection.  When  you  know  a 
man  hates  you  and  serves  you  from  interest, 
you  know  he 's  a  cur  and  you  're  a  tyrant. 
It 's  your  blank  progress  that 's  made  me 
nial  service  degrading  by  teaching  men  to 


42    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

avoid  it.  Why,  sir,  when  I  first  arrived  here, 
Jack  Hammersley  and  myself  took  turns  as 
cook  to  the  party.  I  did  n't  consider  myself 
any  the  worse  master  for  it.  But  enough  of 
this."  He  paused,  and,  raising  himself  on 
his  elbow,  gazed  for  some  seconds  half  cau 
tiously,  half  doubtfully,  upon  his  companion. 
"  I  've  got  something  to  tell  you,  Hathaway," 
he  said,  slowly.  "  You  've  had  an  easy  time 
with  this  Trust;  your  share  of  the  work 
has  n't  worried  you,  kept  you  awake  nights, 
or  interfered  with  your  career.  I  understand 
perfectly,"  he  continued,  in  reply  to  Hatha- 
way's  deprecating  gesture.  "  I  accepted  to 
act  as  your  proxy,  and  I  have.  I  'm  not 
complaining.  But  it  is  time  that  you  should 
know  what  I  've  done,  and  what  you  may 
still  have  to  do.  Here  is  the  record.  On 
the  day  after  that  interview  in  the  Mayor's 
office,  the  El  Dorado  Bank,  of  which  I  was, 
and  still  am,  president,  received  seventy-five 
thousand  dollars  in  trust  from  Mrs.  Howard. 
Two  years  afterwards,  on  that  same  day,  the 
bank  had,  by  lucky  speculations,  increased 
that  sum  to  the  credit  of  the  trust  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  or  double 
the  original  capital.  In  the  following  year 
the  bank  suspended  payment." 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN  an  instant  the  whole  situation  and  his 
relations  to  it  flashed  upon  Paul  with  a  ter 
rible,  but  almost  grotesque,  completeness. 
Here  he  was,  at  the  outset  of  his  career, 
responsible  for  the  wasted  fortune  of  the 
daughter  of  a  social  outcast,  and  saddled 
with  her  support!  He  now  knew  why 
Colonel  Pendleton  had  wished  to  see  him  ; 
for  one  shameful  moment  he  believed  he  also 
knew  why  he  had  been  content  to  take  his 
proxy!  The  questionable  character  of  the 
whole  transaction,  his  own  carelessness, 
which  sprang  from  that  very  confidence  and 
trust  that  Pendleton  had  lately  extolled  — 
what  would,  what  could  not  be  made  of  it ! 
He  already  heard  himself  abused  by  his 
opponents  —  perhaps,  more  terrible  still, 
faintly  excused  by  his  friends.  All  this  was 
visible  in  his  pale  face  and  flashing  eyes  as 
he  turned  them  on  the  helpless  invalid. 

Colonel  Pendleton  received  his  look  with 
the  same  critical,  half-curious  scrutiny  that 


44    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

had  accompanied  his  speech.  At  last  his 
face  changed  slightly,  a  faint  look  of  disap 
pointment  crossed  his  eyes,  and  a  sardonic 
smile  deepened  the  lines  of  his  mouth. 

"  There,  sir,"  he  said  hurriedly,  as  if  dis 
missing  an  unpleasant  revelation  ;  "  don't 
alarm  yourself !  Take  a  drink  of  that  whis 
key.  You  look  pale.  Well ;  turn  your  eyes 
on  those  walls.  You  don't  see  any  of  that 
money  laid  out  here  —  do  you  ?  Look  at  me. 
I  don't  look  like  a  man  enriched  with  other 
people's  money  —  do  I  ?  Well,  let  that  con 
tent  you.  Every  dollar  of  that  Trust  fund, 
Hathaway,  with  all  the  interests  and  profits 
that  have  accrued  to  it,  is  safe  !  Every  cent 
of  it  is  locked  up  in  government  bonds  with 
Rothschild's  agent.  There  are  the  receipts, 
dated  a  week  before  the  bank  suspended. 
But  enough  of  that  —  that  is  n't  what  I  asked 
you  to  come  and  see  me  for." 

The  blood  had  rushed  back  to  Paul's 
cheeks  uncomfortably.  He  saw  now,  as  im 
pulsively  as  he  had  previously  suspected  his 
co-trustee,  that  the  man  had  probably  ruined 
himself  to  save  the  Trust.  He  stammered 
that  he  had  not  questioned  the  management 
of  the  fund  nor  asked  to  withdraw  his  proxy. 

"  No  matter,  sir,"  said  the  colonel,  impa- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    45 

tiently ;  "  you  had  the  right,  and  I  suppose," 
he  added  with  half -concealed  scorn,  "  it  was 
your  duty.  But  let  that  pass.  The  money 
is  safe  enough ;  but,  Mr.  Hathaway,  —  and 
this  is  the  point  I  want  to  discuss  with  you, 
—  it  begins  to  look  as  if  the  secret  was  safe 
no  longer !  "  He  had  raised  himself  with 
some  pain  and  difficulty  to  draw  nearer  to 
Paul,  and  had  again  fixed  his  eyes  eagerly 
upon  him.  But  Paul's  responsive  glance 
was  so  vague  that  he  added  quickly,  "  You 
understand,  sir;  I  believe  that  there  are 
hounds  —  I  say  hounds !  —  who  would  be 
able  to  blurt  out  at  any  moment  that  that 
girl  at  Santa  Clara  is  Kate  Howard's 
daughter." 

At  any  other  moment  Paul  might  have 
questioned  the  gravity  of  any  such  contin 
gency,  but  the  terrible  earnestness  of  the 
speaker,  his  dominant  tone,  and  a  certain 
respect  which  had  lately  sprung  up  in  his 
breast  for  him,  checked  him,  and  he  only 
asked  with  as  much  concern  as  he  could 
master  for  the  moment :  — 

44  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

44  That 's  what  I  want  to  tell  you,  Hatha 
way,  and  how  I,  and  I  alone,  am  responsible 
for  it.  When  the  bank  was  in  difficulty  and 


46    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  guard  the  Trust  with 
my  own  personal  and  private  capital,  I  knew 
that  there  might  be  some  comment  on  my 
action.  It  was  a  delicate  matter  to  show 
any  preference  or  exclusion  at  such  a  mo 
ment,  and  I  took  two  or  three  of  my  brother 
directors  whom  I  thought  I  could  trust  into 
my  confidence.  I  told  them  the  whole  story, 
and  how  the  Trust  was  sacred.  I  made  a 
mistake,  sir,"  continued  Pendleton  sardon 
ically,  "  a  grave  mistake.  I  did  not  take 
into  account  that  even  in  three  years  civili 
zation  and  religion  had  gained  ground  here. 
There  was  a  hound  there  —  a  blank  Judas 
in  the  Trust.  Well ;  he  did  n't  see  it.  I 
think  he  talked  Scripture  and  morality.  He 
said  something  about  the  wages  of  sin  being 
infamous,  and  only  worthy  of  confiscation. 
He  talked  about  the  sins  of  the  father  be 
ing  visited  upon  the  children,  and  justly.  I 
stopped  him.  Well !  Do  you  know  what 's 
the  matter  with  my  ankle?  Look!"  He 
stopped  and,  with  some  difficulty  and  invin 
cible  gravity,  throwing  aside  his  dressing- 
gown,  turned  down  his  stocking,  and  exposed 
to  Paul's  gaze  the  healed  cicatrix  of  an  old 
bullet- wound.  "  Troubled  me  damnably  near 
a  year.  Where  I  hit  him  —  has  n't  troubled 
him  at  all  since  ! 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.         47 

"  I  think,"  continued  the  colonel,  falling 
back  upon  the  pillow  with  an  air  of  relief, 
"  that  he  told  others  —  of  his  own  kidney, 
sir,  —  though  it  was  a  secret  among  gentle 
men.  But  they  have  preferred  to  be  silent 
now  —  than  afterwards.  They  know  that 
I  'm  ready.  But  I  can't  keep  this  up  long  ; 
some  time,  you  know,  they  're  bound  to  im 
prove  in  practice  and  hit  higher  up  !  As 
far  as  I'm  concerned,"  he  added,  with  a 
grim  glance  around  the  faded  walls  and 
threadbare  furniture,  "  it  don't  mind ;  but 
mine  isn't  the  mouth  to  be  stopped."  He 
paused,  and  then  abruptly,  yet  with  a  sudden 
and  pathetic  dropping  of  his  dominant  note, 
said :  "  Hathaway,  you  're  young,  and  Ham- 
mersley  liked  you  —  what 's  to  be  done  ?  I 
thought  of  passing  over  my  tools  to  you. 
You  can  shoot,  and  I  hear  you  have.  But 
the  h — 1  of  it  is  that  if  you  dropped  a  man 
or  two  people  would  ask  why,  and  want  to 
know  what  it  was  about ;  while,  when  I  do, 
nobody  here  thinks  it  anything  but  my  way  ! 
I  don't  mean  that  it  would  hurt  you  with 
the  crowd  to  wipe  out  one  or  two  of  these 
hounds  during  the  canvass,  but  the  trouble 
is  that  they  belong  to  your  party,  and,"  he 
added  grimly,  "that  wouldn't  help  your 


48    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  But,"  said  Paul,  ignoring  the  sarcasm, 
"  are  you  not  magnifying  the  effect  of  a  dis 
closure  ?  The  girl  is  an  heiress,  excellently 
brought  up.  Who  will  bother  about  the 
antecedents  of  the  mother,  who  has  disap 
peared,  whom  she  never  knew,  and  who  is 
legally  dead  to  her?  " 

"  In  my  day,  sir,  no  one  who  knew  the 
circumstances,"  returned  the  colonel,  quickly. 
"  But  we  are  living  in  a  blessed  era  of  Chris 
tian  retribution  and  civilized  propriety,  and 
I  believe  there  are  a  lot  of  men  and  women 
about  who  have  no  other  way  of  showing 
their  own  virtue  than  by  showing  up  an 
other's  vice.  We  're  in  a  reaction  of  reform. 
It 's  the  old  drunkards  who  are  always  more 
clamorous  for  total  abstinence  than  the  mod 
erately  temperate.  I  tell  you,  Hathaway, 
there  could  n't  be  an  unluckier  moment  for 
our  secret  coming  out." 

"  But  she  will  be  of  age  soon." 

"  In  two  months." 

"  And  sure  to  marry." 

"  Marry !  "  repeated  Pendleton,  with  grim 
irony.  "  Would  you  marry  her  ?  " 

:t  That 's  another  question,"  said  the  young 
man,  promptly,  "  and  one  of  individual  taste  ; 
but  it  does  not  affect  my  general  belief  that 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    49 

she  could  easily  find  a  husband  as  good  and 
better." 

"  Suppose  she  found  one  before  the  secret 
is  out.  Ought  he  be  told  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  that  would  imply  telling  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul,  but  not  so  promptly. 

"And  you  consider  that  fulfilling  the 
promise  of  the  Trust —  the  pledges  exchanged 
with  that  woman?"  continued  Peudleton, 
with  glittering  eyes  and  a  return  to  his  own 
dominant  tone. 

"  My  dear  colonel,"  said  Paul,  somewhat 
less  positively,  but  still  smiling,  "  you  have 
made  a  romantic,  almost  impossible  compact 
with  Mrs.  Howard  that,  you  yourself  are  now 
obliged  to  admit,  circumstances  may  prevent 
your  carrying  out  substantially.  You  forget, 
also,  that  you  have  just  told  me  that  you 
have  already  broken  your  pledge  —  under  cir 
cumstances,  it  is  true,  that  do  you  honor  — 
and  that  now  your  desperate  attempts  to  re 
trieve  it  have  failed.  Now,  I  really  see  noth 
ing  wrong  in  your  telling  to  a  presumptive 
well-wisher  of  the  girl  what  you  have  told  to 
her  enemy." 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  The  prostrate 
man  uttered  a  slight  groan,  as  if  in  pain, 


50    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

and  drew  up  his  leg  to  change  his  position. 
After  a  pause,  he  said,  in  a  restrained  voice, 
"  I  differ  from  you,  Mr.  Hathaway ;  but 
enough  of  this  for  the  present.  I  have  some 
thing  else  to  say.  It  will  be  necessary  for 
one  of  us  to  go  at  once  to  Santa  Clara  and 
see  Miss  Yerba  Buena." 

"  Good    heavens !  "    said  Paul,   quickly. 
"Do  you  call  her  that?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir.  You  gave  her  the  name. 
Have  you  forgotten  ?  " 

"I  only  suggested  it,"  returned  Paul, 
hopelessly ;  "  but  no  matter  —  go  on." 

"  /  cannot  go  there,  as  you  see,"  continued 
Pendleton,  with  a  weary  gesture  towards  his 
crippled  ankle  ;  "  and  I  should  particularly 
like  you  to  see  her  before  we  make  the  joint 
disposition  of  her  affairs  with  the  Mayor, 
two  months  hence.  I  have  some  papers  you 
can  show  her,  and  I  have  already  written  a 
letter  introducing  you  to  the  Lady  Superior 
at  the  convent,  and  to  her.  You  have  never 
seen  her?" 

"No,"  said  Paul.  "But  of  course  you 
have?" 

44  Not  for  three  years." 
Paul's  eyes  evidently  expressed  some  won 
der,  for  a  moment  after  the  colonel  added. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    51 

u  I  believe,  Hathaway,  I  am  looked  upon  as 
a  queer  survival  of  a  rather  lawless  and 
improper  past.  At  least,  I  have  thought  it 
better  not  socially  to  compromise  her  by  my 
presence.  The  Mayor  goes  there  —  at  the 
examinations  and  exercises,  I  believe,  sir; 
they  make  a  sort  of  reception  for  him  —  with 
a  —  a  —  banquet  —  lemonade  and  speeches." 

"  I  had  intended  to  leave  for  Sacramento 
to-morrow  night,"  said  Paul,  glancing  cu 
riously  at  the  helpless  man ;  "  but  I  will  go 
there  if  you  wish." 

"  Thank  you.     It  will  be  better." 

There  were  a  few  words  of  further  expla 
nation  of  the  papers,  and  Pendleton  placed 
the  packet  in  his  visitor's  hands.  Paul  rose. 
Somehow,  it  appeared  to  him  that  the  room 
looked  more  faded  and  forgotten  than  when 
he  entered  it,  and  the  figure  of  the  man 
before  him  more  lonely,  helpless,  and  aban 
doned.  With  one  of  his  sympathetic  im 
pulses  he  said :  — 

"I  don't  like  to  leave  you  here  alone. 
Are  you  sure  you  can  help  yourself  without 
George  ?  Can  I  do  anything  before  I  go  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  accustomed  to  it,"  said  Pen 
dleton,  quietly.  "  It  happens  once  or  twice 
a  year,  and  when  I  go  out  —  well  —  I  miss 
more  than  I  do  here." 


52    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

He  took  Paul's  proffered  hand  mechani 
cally,  with  a  slight  return  of  the  critical, 
doubting  look  he  had  cast  upon  him  when  he 
entered.  His  voice,  too,  had  quite  recovered 
its  old  dominance,  as  he  said,  with  half-pa 
tronizing  conventionality,  "You'll  have  to 
find  your  way  out  alone.  Let  me  know  how 
you  have  sped  at  Santa  Clara,  will  you? 
Good-by." 

The  staircase  and  passage  seemed  to  have 
grown  shabbier  and  meaner  as  Paul,  slowly 
and  hesitatingly,  descended  to  the  street. 
At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  he  paused  irresolutely, 
and  loitered  with  a  vague  idea  of  turning 
back  on  some  pretense,  only  that  he  might 
relieve  himself  of  the  sense  of  desertion.  He 
had  already  determined  upon  making  that 
inquiry  into  the  colonel's  personal  and 
pecuniary  affairs  which  he  had  not  dared  to 
offer  personally,  and  had  a  half-formed  plan 
of  testing  his  own  power  and  popularity  in  a 
certain  line  of  relief  that  at  once  satisfied 
his  sympathies  and  ambitions.  Nevertheless, 
after  reaching  the  street,  he  lingered  a  mo 
ment,  when  an  odd  idea  of  temporizing  with 
his  inclinations  struck  him.  At  the  farther 
end  of  the  hotel  —  one  of  the  parasites  living 
on  its  decayed  fortunes  — was  a  small  barber's 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    53 

shop.  By  having  his  hair  trimmed  and  his 
clothes  brushed  he  could  linger  a  little  longer 
beneath  the  same  roof  with  the  helpless  soli 
tary,  and  perhaps  come  to  some  conclusion. 
He  entered  the  clean  but  scantily  furnished 
shop,  and  threw  himself  into  one  of  the 
nearest  chairs,  hardly  noting  that  there  were 
no  other  customers,  and  that  a  single  assist 
ant,  stropping  a  razor  behind  a  glass  door, 
was  the  only  occupant.  But  there  was  a 
familiar  note  of  exaggerated  politeness  about 
the  voice  of  this  man  as  he  opened  the  door 
and  came  towards  the  back  of  the  chair  with 
the  formula  :  — 

"  Mo'nin',  sah  !  Shall  we  hab  de  pleshure 
of  shavin'  or  hah-cuttin'  dis  mo'nin'  ?  "  Paul 
raised  his  eyes  quickly  to  the  mirror  before 
him.  It  reflected  the  black  face  and  grizzled 
hair  of  George. 

More  relieved  at  finding  the  old  servant 
still  near  his  master  than  caring  to  compre 
hend  the  reason,  Hathaway  said  pleasantly, 
"  Well,  George,  is  this  the  way  you  look 
after  your  family  ?  " 

The  old  man  started ;  for  an  instant  his 
full  red  lips  seemed  to  become  dry  and  ashen, 
the  whites  of  his  eyes  were  suffused  and 
staring,  as  he  met  Paul's  smiling  face  in  the 


64    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

glass.  But  almost  as  quickly  he  recovered 
himself,  and,  with  a  polite  but  deprecating 
bow,  said,  —  "  For  God  sake,  sah !  I  admit 
de  sarkurnstances  is  agin  me,  but  de  simple 
fack  is  dat  I  'm  temper'ly  occupyin'  de  place 
of  an  ole  frien',  sah,  who  is  called  round  de 
cornah." 

"  And  I  'm  devilish  glad  of  any  fact, 
George,  that  gives  me  a  chance  of  having 
my  hair  cut  by  Colonel  Pendleton's  right- 
hand  man.  So  fire  away !  " 

The  gratified  smile  which  now  suddenly 
overspread  the  whole  of  the  old  man's  face, 
and  seemed  to  quickly  stiffen  the  rugged  and 
wrinkled  fingers  that  had  at  first  trembled 
in  drawing  a  pair  of  shears  from  a  ragged 
pocket,  appeared  to  satisfy  Paul's  curiosity 
for  the  present.  But  after  a  few  moments' 
silent  snipping,  during  which  he  could  detect 
in  the  mirror  some  traces  of  agitation  still 
twitching  the  negro's  face,  he  said  with  an 
air  of  conviction  :  — 

"  Look  here,  George  —  why  don't  you 
regularly  use  your  leisure  moments  in  this 
trade  ?  You  'd  make  your  fortune  by  your 
taste  and  skill  at  it." 

For  the  next  half  minute  the  old  man's 
frame  shook  with  silent  childlike  laughter 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    55 

behind  Paul's  chair.  "  Well,  Marse  Hatha 
way,  yo's  an  ole  frien'  o'  my  massa,  and  a 
gemman  yo'self,  sah,  and  a  senetah,  and  1 
do'aii  mind  tellin'  yo'  —  dat  's  jess  what  I 
bin  gone  done  !  It  makes  a  little  ready 
money  for  de  ole  woman  and  de  chilleren. 
But  de  Kernel  don'  no'.  Ah,  sah  !  de  Ker 
nel  kill  me  or  hisself  if  he  so  much  as  'spi- 
cioned  me.  De  Kernel  is  high-toned,  sah ! 
—  bein'  a  gemman  yo'self,  yo'  understand. 
He  would  n't  heah  ob  his  niggah  worken'  for 
two  massas  —  for  all  he  's  willen'  to  lemme 
go  and  help  myse'f.  But,  Lord  bless  yo', 
sah,  dat  ain't  in  de  category !  De  Kernel 
could  n't  get  along  widout  me." 

"  You  collect  his  rents,  don't  you  ?  "  said 
Paul,  quietly. 
"  Yes,  sah." 
"Much?" 

"  Well,  no,  sah  ;  not  so  much  as  fom'ly, 
sah !  Yo'  see,  de  Kernel's  prop'ty  lies  in  de 
ole  parts  ob  de  town,  where  de  po'  white  folks 
lib,  and  dey  ain't  reg'lar.  De  Kernel  dat 
sof '  in  his  heart,  he  dare  n'  press  'em  ;  some 
of  'em  is  ole  fo'ty-niners,  like  hisself,  sah ; 
and  some  is  Spanish,  sah,  and  dey  is  sof 
too,  and  ain't  no  more  gumption  dan  chil 
leren,  and  tink  it 's  ole  time  come  ag'in,  and 


56    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

dey  's  in  de  ole  places  like  afo'  de  Mexican 
wall !  and  dey  don'  bin  payin'  noffin'.  But 
we  gets  along,  sah,  —  we  gets  along,  —  not 
in  de  prima  facie  style,  sah  !  mebbe  not  in 
de  modden  way  dut  de  Kernel  don't  like  ; 
but  we  keeps  ourse'f,  sah,  and  has  wine  fo' 
our  friends.  When  yo'  come  again,  sah, 
yo'  '11  find  de  Widder  Glencoe  on  de  side 
board." 

"  Has  the  colonel  many  friends  here  ?  " 
"Mos'  de  ole  ones  bin  done  gone,  sah, 
and  de  Kernel  don'  cotton  to  de  new.  He 
don'  mix  much  in  sassiety  till  de  bank  settle 
ments  bin  gone  done.  Skuse  me,  sah !  — 
but  you  don'  happen  to  know  when  dat  is  ? 
It  would  be  a  pow'ful  heap  off  de  Kernel's 
mind  if  it  was  done.  Bein'  a  high  and 
mighty  man  in  committees  up  dah  in  Sac 
ramento,  sah,  I  didn't  know  but  what  yo' 
might  know  as  it  might  come  befo'  yo'." 

"  I  '11  see  about  it,"  said   Paul,   with  an 
odd,  abstracted  smile. 

"  Shampoo  dis  mornen',  sah  ?  " 
"  Nothing  more  in  this  line,"  said  Paul, 
rising  from  his  chair,  "  but  something  more, 
perhaps,  in  the  line  of  your  other  duties. 
You  're  a  good  barber  for  the  public,  George, 
and  I  don't  take  back  what  I  said  about 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    57 

your  future;  but  just  now  I  think  the  colo 
nel  wants  all  your  service.  He  's  not  at  all 
well.  Take  this,"  he  said,  putting  a  twenty- 
dollar  gold  piece  in  the  astonished  servant's 
hand,  "and  for  the  next  three  or  four  days 
drop  the  shop,  and  under  some  pretext  or 
another  arrange  to  be  with  him.  That 
money  will  cover  what  you  lose  here,  and  as 
soon  as  the  colonel 's  all  right  again  you 
can  come  back  to  work.  But  are  you  not 
afraid  of  being  recognized  by  some  one?  " 

"  No,  sah,  dat  's  just  it.  On'y  strangers 
dat  don't  know  no  better  come  yere." 

"  But  suppose  your  master  should  drop 
in?  It's  quite  convenient  to  his  rooms." 

"  Marse  Harry  in  a  barber-shop  !  "  said 
the  old  man  with  a  silent  laugh.  "  Skuse 
me,  sah,"  he  added,  with  an  apologetic  mix 
ture  of  respect  and  dignity,  "  but  f o'  twenty 
years  no  man  hez  touched  de  Kernel's  chin 
but  myself.  When  Marse  Harry  hez  to  go 
to  a  barber's  shop,  it  won't  make  no  matter 
who  's  dar." 

44  Let 's  hope  he  will  not,"  said  Paul  gayly; 
then,  anxious  to  evade  the  gratitude  which, 
since  his  munificence,  he  had  seen  beaming 
in  the  old  negro's  eye  and  evidently  trying 
to  find  polysyllabic  and  elevated  expression 


58    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLD  EX  GATE. 

on  his  lips,  he  said  hurriedly,  "  I  shall  ex 
pect  to  find  you  with  the  colonel  when  I 
call  again  in  a  day  or  two,"  and  smilingly 
departed. 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  George's  barber- 
employer  returned  to  relieve  his  assistant, 
and,  on  receiving  from  him  an  account  and 
a  certain  percentage  of  the  afternoon's  fees 
(minus  the  gift  from  Paul),  was  informed 
by  George  that  he  should  pretermit  his 
attendance  for  a  few  days.  "  Udder  private 
and  personal  affairs,"  explained  the  old 
negro,  who  made  no  social  distinction  in  his 
vocabulary,  "  peroccupyin'  dis  niggah's  time." 
The  head  barber,  unwilling  to  lose  a  really 
good  assistant,  endeavored  to  dissuade  him 
by  the  offer  of  increased  emolument,  but 
George  was  firm. 

As  he  entered  the  sitting-room  the  colonel 
detected  his  step,  and  called  him  in. 

"  Another  time,  George,  never  allow  a 
guest  of  mine  to  send  away  wine.  If  he 
don't  care  for  it,  put  it  on  the  sideboard." 

44  Yes,  sah;  but  as  yo'  didn't  like  it 
yo'self,  Marse  Harry,  and  de  wine  was  de 
most  'xpensive  quality  ob  Glencoe  "  — 

"  D — n  the  expense  !  "  He  paused,  and 
gazed  searchingly  at  his  old  retainer. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    59 

"George,"  he  said  suddenly,  yet  in  a 
gentle  voice,  "  don't  lie  to  me,  or  " —  in  a 
still  kinder  voice  —  "I  '11  flog  the  black  skin 
off  you  !  Listen  to  me.  Have  you  got  any 
money  left?" 

"  'Deed,  sah,  dere  is,"  said  the  negro 
earnestly.  "I'll  jist  fetch  it  wid  de  ac 
counts." 

"  Hold  on !  I  've  been  thinking,  lying 
here,  that  if  the  Widow  Molloy  can't  pay 
because  she  sold  out,  and  that  tobacconist  is 
ruined,  and  we  've  had  to  pay  the  water  tax 
for  old  Bill  Soames,  the  rent  last  week  don't 
amount  to  much,  while  there  's  the  month's 
bill  for  the  restaurant  and  that  blank  drug 
gist's  account  for  lotions  and  medicines  to 
come  out  of  it.  It  strikes  me  we  're  pretty 
near  touching  bottom.  I  've  everything  I 
want  here,  but,  by  God,  sir,  if  I  find  you 
skimping  yourself  or  lying  to  me  or  borrow 
ing  money  "  — 

"Yes,  Marse  Harry,  but  the  Widder 
Molloy  done  gone  and  paid  up  dis  afernoon. 
I  '11  bring  de  books  and  money  to  prove  it ; " 
and  he  hurriedly  reentered  the  sitting-room. 

Then  with  trembling  hands  he  emptied 
his  pockets  on  the  table,  including  Paul's 
gift  and  the  fees  he  had  just  received,  and 


60    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

opening  a  desk-drawer  took  from  it  a  striped 
cotton  handkerchief,  such  as  negro  women 
wear  on  their  heads,  containing  a  small 
quantity  of  silver  tied  up  in  a  hard  knot,  and 
a  boy's  purse.  This  he  emptied  on  the  table 
with  his  own  money. 

They  were  the  only  rents  of  Colonel 
Henry  Pendleton !  They  were  contributed 
by  "George  Washington  Thomson;"  his 
wife,  otherwise  known  as  "Aunt  Dinah," 
washerwoman ;  and  "  Scipio  Thomson," 
their  son,  aged  fourteen,  bootblack.  It  did 
not  amount  to  much.  But  in  that  happy 
moisture  that  dimmed  the  old  man's  eyes, 
God  knows  it  looked  large  enough. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ALTHOUGH  the  rays  of  an  unclouded  sun 
were  hot  in  the  Santa  Clara  roads  and  by 
ways,  and  the  dry,  bleached  dust  had  become 
an  impalpable  powder,  the  perspiring  and 
parched  pedestrian  who  rashly  sought  relief 
in  the  shade  of  the  wayside  oak  was  speedily 
chilled  to  the  bone  by  the  northwest  trade- 
winds  that  on  those  August  afternoons  swept 
through  the  defiles  of  the  Coast  Range,  and 
even  penetrated  the  pastoral  valley  of  San 
Jose.  The  anomaly  of  straw  hats  and  over 
coats  with  the  occupants  of  buggies  and 
station  wagons  was  thus  accounted  for,  and 
even  in  the  sheltered  garden  of  "  El  Rosario  " 
two  young  girls  in  light  summer  dresses  had 
thrown  wraps  over  their  shoulders  as  they 
lounged  down  a  broad  rose-alley  at  right 
angles  with  the  deep,  long  veranda  of  the 
casa.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  chill,  the  old 
Spanish  house  and  gardens  presented  a  lux 
urious,  almost  tropical,  picture  from  the 
roadside.  Banks,  beds,  and  bowers  of  roses 


62    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

lent  their  name  and  color  to  the  grounds  ; 
tree-like  clusters  of  hanging  fuchsias,  mound- 
like  masses  of  variegated  verbena,  and 
tangled  thickets  of  ceanothus  and  spreading 
heliotrope  were  set  in  boundaries  of  vener 
able  olive,  fig,  and  pear  trees.  The  old 
house  itself,  a  picturesque  relief  to  the  glaring 
newness  of  the  painted  villas  along  the  road, 
had  been  tastefully  modified  to  suit  the 
needs  and  habits  of  a  later  civilization ;  the 
galleries  of  the  inner  courtyard,  or  patio, 
had  been  transferred  to  the  outside  walls  in 
the  form  of  deep  verandas,  while  the  old 
adobe  walls  themselves  were  hidden  beneath 
flowing  Cape  jessamine  or  bestarred  passion 
vines,  and  topped  by  roofs  of  cylindrical  red 
tiles. 

"  Miss  Yerba ! "  said  a  dry,  masculine 
voice  from  the  veranda. 

The  taller  young  girl  started,  and  drew 
herself  suddenly  behind  a  large  Castilian 
rose-treej  dragging  her  companion  with  her, 
and  putting  her  finger  imperatively  upon  a 
pretty  but  somewhat  passionate  mouth.  The 
other  girl  checked  a  laugh,  and  remained 
watching  her  friend's  wickedly  leveled  brows 
in  amused  surprise. 

The  call  was  repeated  from  the  veranda. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    63 

After  a  moment's  pause  there  was  the  sound 
of  retreating  footsteps,  and  all  was  quiet 
again. 

"Why,  for  goodness'  sake,  didn't  you 
answer,  Yerba  ?  "  asked  the  shorter  girl. 

"  Oh,  I  hate  him !  "  responded  Yerba. 
"  He  only  wanted  to  bore  me  with  his  stupid, 
formal,  sham-parental  talk.  Because  he  's 
my  official  guardian  he  thinks  it  necessary 
to  assume  this  manner  towards  me  when  we 
meet,  and  treats  me  as  if  I  were  something 
between  his  stepdaughter  and  an  almshouse 
orphan  or  a  police  board.  It's  perfectly 
ridiculous,  for  it 's  only  put  on  while  he  is  in 
office,  and  he  knows  it,  and  I  know  it,  and 
I'm  tired  of  making  believe.  Why,  my 
dear,  they  change  every  election  ;  I  've  had 
seven  of  them,  all  more  or  less  of  this  kind, 
since  I  can  remember." 

"But  I  thought  there  were  two  others, 
dear,  that  were  not  official,"  said  her  com 
panion,  coaxingly. 

Yerba  sighed.  "  No ;  there  was  another, 
who  was  president  of  a  bank,  but  that  was 
also  to  be  official  if  he  died.  I  used  to  like 
him,  he  seemed  to  be  the  only  gentleman 
among  them  ;  but  it  appears  that  he  is  dread 
fully  improper  ;  shoots  people  now  and  then 


64    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

for  nothing  at  all,  and  burst  up  his  bank  — 
and,  of  course,  he 's  impossible,  and,  as 
there 's  no  more  bank,  when  he  dies  there  '11 
be  no  more  trustee." 

"And  there's  the  third,  you  know  — a 
stranger,  who  never  appears?"  suggested 
the  younger  girl. 

"  And  who  do  you  suppose  he  turns  out  to 
be  ?  Do  you  remember  that  conceited  little 
wretch  — that  'Baby  Senator,'  I  think  they 
called  him  —  who  was  in  the  parlor  of  the 
Golden  Gate  the  other  morning  surrounded 
by  his  idiotic  worshipers  and  toadies  and 
ballot-box  stuffers?  Well,  if  you  please, 
that 's  Mr.  Paul  Hathaway  —  the  Honorable 
Paul  Hathaway,  who  washed  his  hands  of 
me,  my  dear,  at  the  beginning  !  " 

"But  really,  Yerba,  I  thought  that  he 
looked  and  acted  " — 

"  You  thought  of  nothing  at  all,  Milly," 
returned  Yerba,  with  authority.  "I  tell 
you  he 's  a  mass  of  conceit.  What  else 
can  you  expect  of  a  Man  —  toadied  and 
fawned  upon  to  that  extent?  It  made  me 
sick  !  I  could  have  just  shaken  them  !  " 

As  if  to  emphasize  her  statement,  she 
grasped  one  of  the  long  willowy  branches  of 
the  enormous  rose-bush  where  she  stood,  and 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    65 

shook  it  lightly.  The  action  detached  a 
few  of  the  maturer  blossoms,  and  sent  down 
a  shower  of  faded  pink  petals  on  her  dark 
hair  and  yellow  dress.  "  I  can't  bear  conceit," 
she  added. 

"  Oh,  Yerba,  just  stand  as  you  are !  I  do 
wish  the  girls  could  see  you.  You  make  the 
loveliest  picture !  " 

She  certainly  did  look  very  pretty  as  she 
stood  there  —  a  few  leaves  lodged  in  her 

O 

hair,  clinging  to  her  dress,  and  suggesting 
by  reflection  the  color  that  her  delicate  satin 
skin  would  have  resented  in  its  own  texture. 
But  she  turned  impatiently  away  —  perhaps 
not  before  she  had  allowed  this  passing  vision 
to  impress  the  mind  of  her  devoted  adherent 
—  and  said,  "  Come  along,  or  that  dreadful 
man  will  be  out  on  the  veranda  again." 

"  But,  if  you  dislike  him  so,  why  did  you 
accept  the  invitation  to  meet  him  here  at 
luncheon  ?  "  said  the  curious  Milly. 

"  /  did  n't  accept ;  the  Mother  Superior 
did  for  me,  because  he 's  the  Mayor  of  San 
Francisco  visiting  your  uncle,  and  she  's  al 
ways  anxious  to  placate  the  powers  that  be. 
And  I  thought  he  might  have  some  informa 
tion  that  I  could  get  out  of  him.  And  it 
was  better  than  being  in  the  convent  all  day. 


66         A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

And  I  thought  I  could  stand  him  if  you  were 
here." 

Milly  gratefully  accepted  this  doubtful 
proof  of  affection  by  squeezing  her  compan 
ion's  arm.  "  And  you  did  n't  get  any  infor 
mation,  dear?" 

"  Of  course  not !  The  idiot  knows  only 
the  old  tradition  of  his  office  —  that  I  was  a 
mysterious  Trust  left  in  Mayor  Hammers- 
ley's  hands.  He  actually  informed  me  that 
4  Bueiia  '  meant  '  Good  ' ;  that  it  was  likely 
the  name  of  the  captain  of  some  whaler,  that 
put  into  San  Francisco  in  the  early  clays, 
whose  child  I  was,  and  that,  if  I  chose  to 
call  myself  4  Miss  Good,'  he  would  allow  it, 
and  get  a  bill  passed  in  the  Legislature  to 
legalize  it.  Think  of  ifc,  my  dear !  '  Miss 
Good,'  like  one  of  'Mrs.  Barbauld's  stories, 
or  a  moral  governess  in  the  'Primary 
Header.'  " 

"  4  Miss  Good,'  "  repeated  Milly,  innocent 
ly.  "  Yes,  you  might  put  an  e  at  the  end  — 
G-double-o-d-e.  There  are  Goodes  in  Phila 
delphia.  And  then  you  won't  have  to  sacri 
fice  that  sweet  pretty  '  Yerba,'  that's  so 
stylish  and  musical,  for  you  'd  still  be  4  Yerba 
Good.'  But,"  she  added,  as  Yerba  made  an 
impatient  gesture,  "  why  do  you  worry  your- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    67 

self  about  that  ?  You  would  n't  keep  your 
own  name  long,  whatever  it  was.  An  heiress 
like  you,  dear,  —  lovely  and  accomplished,  — 
would  have  the  best  names  as  well  as  the 
best  men  in  America  to  choose  from." 

"  Now  please  don't  repeat  that  idiot's 
words.  That 's  what  he  says  ;  that 's  what 
they  all  say!"  returned  Yerba,  pettishly. 
"  One  would  really  think  it  was  necessary 
for  me  to  get  married  to  become  anybody  at 
all,  or  have  any  standing  whatever.  And, 
whatever  you  do,  don't  go  talking  of  me  as 
if  I  were  named  after  a  vegetable.  '  Yerba 
Buena'  is  the  name  of  an  island  in  the  bay 
just  off  San  Francisco.  I  'm  named  after 
that." 

"  But  I  don't  see  the  difference,  dear. 
The  island  was  named  after  the  vine  that 
grows  on  it." 

"You  don't  see  the  difference?"  said 
Yerba,  darkly.  "  Well,  /  do.  But  what 
are  you  looking  at  ?  " 

Her  companion  had  caught  her  arm,  and 
was  gazing  intently  at  the  house. 

"  Yerba,"  she  said  quickly,  "  there 's  the 
Mayor,  and  uncle,  and  a  strange  gentleman 
coming  down  the  walk.  They  're  looking 
for  us.  And,  as  I  live,  Yerb !  the  strange 


68    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

gentleman  is  that  young  senator,  Mr.  Hath 
away  !  " 

"  Mr.  Hathaway  ?     Nonsense  !  " 

"  Look  for  yourself." 

Yerba  glanced  at  the  three  gentlemen, 
who,  a  hundred  yards  distant,  were  slowly 
advancing  in  the  direction  of  the  ceanothus- 
hedge,  behind  which  the  girls  had  instinc 
tively  strayed  during  their  conversation. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  said  Milly, 
eagerly.  "  They  're  coming  straight  this 
way.  Shall  we  stay  here  and  let  them  pass, 
or  make  a  run  for  the  house  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Yerba,  to  Milly's  great  sur 
prise.  "That  would  look  as  if  we  cared. 
Besides,  I  don't  know  that  Mr.  Hathaway 
has  come  to  see  me.  We'll  stroll  out  and 
meet  them  accidentally." 

Milly  was  still  more  astonished.  However, 
she  said,  "  Wait  a  moment,  dear  !  "  and,  with 
the  instinctive  deftness  of  her  sex,  in  three 
small  tugs  and  a  gentle  hitch,  shook  Yerba's 
gown  into  perfect  folds,  passed  her  fingers 
across  her  forehead  and  over  her  ears,  secur 
ing,  however,  with  a  hairpin  on  their  passage 
three  of  the  rose  petals  where  they  had 
fallen.  Then,  discharging  their  faces  of  any 
previous  expression,  these  two  charming 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    69 

hypocrites  sallied  out  innocently  into  the 
walk.  Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than 
their  manner  :  if  a  criticism  might  be  ven 
tured  upon,  it  was  that  their  elbows  were 
slightly  drawn  inwards  and  before  them, 
leaving  their  hands  gracefully  advanced 
in  the  line  of  their  figures,  an  attitude 
accepted  throughout  the  civilized  world  of 
deportment  as  indicating  fastidious  refine 
ment  not  unmingled  with  permissible  hau 
teur. 

The  three  gentlemen  lifted  their  hats  at 
this  ravishing  apparition,  and  halted.  The 
Mayor  advanced  with  great  politeness. 

"  I  feared  you  did  n't  hear  me  call  you, 
Miss  Yerba,  so  we  ventured  to  seek  you." 
As  the  two  girls  exchanged  almost  infantile 
glances  of  surprise,  he  continued :  "  Mr. 
Paul  Hathaway  has  done  us  the  honor  of 
seeking  you  here,  as  he  did  not  find  you  at 
the  convent.  You  may  have  forgotten  that 
Mr.  Hathaway  is  the  third  one  of  your 
trustees." 

"  And  so  inefficient  and  worthless  that  I 
fear  he  does  n't  count,"  said  Paul,  "  but," 
raising  his  eyes  to  Yerba's,  "  I  fancy  that  I 
have  already  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you, 
and,  I  fear,  the  mortification  of  having  dis- 


70    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

turbed  you  and  your  friends  in  the  parlor  of 
the  Golden  Gate  Hotel  yesterday." 

The  two  girls  looked  at  each  other  with 
the  same  childlike  surprise.  Yerba  broke 
the  silence  by  suddenly  turning  to  Milly. 
"  Certainly,  you  remember  how  greatly  inter 
ested  we  were  in  the  conversation  of  a  party 
of  gentlemen  who  were  there  when  we  came 
in.  I  am  afraid  our  foolish  prattle  must 
have  disturbed  you.  I  know  that  we  were 
struck  with  the  intelligent  and  eloquent  de 
votion  of  your  friends." 

"  Oh,  perfectly,"  chimed  in  the  loyal  but 
somewhat  infelix  Milly ;  "  and  it  was  so 
kind  and  thoughtful  of  Mr.  Hathaway  to 
take  them  away  as  he  did." 

"  I  felt  the  more  embarrassed,"  continued 
Hathaway,  smiling,  but  still  critically  exam 
ining  Yerba  for  an  indication  of  something 
characteristic,  beyond  this  palpable  conven 
tionality,  "as  I  unfortunately  must  present 
my  credentials  from  a  gentleman  as  much  of 
a  stranger  as  myself —  Colonel  Pendleton." 

The  trade-wind  was  evidently  making  itself 
felt  even  in  this  pastoral  retreat,  for  the  two 
gentlemen  appeared  to  shrink  slightly  within 
themselves,  and  a  chill  seemed  to  have  passed 
over  the  group.  The  Mayor  coughed.  The 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    71 

avuncular  Woods  gazed  abstractedly  at  a 
large  cactus.  Even  Paul,  prepared  by  pre 
vious  experience,  stopped  short. 

"  Colonel  Pendleton  !  Oh,  do  tell  me  all 
about  him !  "  flashed  out  Yerba,  suddenly, 
with  clasped  hands  and  eager  girlish  breath. 

Paul  cast  a  quick  grateful  glance  at  the 
girl.  Whether  assumed  or  not,  her  enthu 
siastic  outburst  was  effective.  The  Mayor 
looked  uneasily  at  Woods,  and  turned  to 
Paul. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  You  and  he  are  original  co- 
trustees.  I  believe  Pendleton  is  in  reduced 
circumstances.  Never  quite  got  over  that 
bank  trouble." 

"  That  is  only  a  question  of  legislative 
investigation  and  relief,"  said  Paul  lightly, 
yet  with  purposely  vague  official  mystery  of 
manner.  Then,  turning  quickly  to  Yerba, 
as  if  replying  to  the  only  real  question  at 
issue,  he  continued  pointedly,  "  I  am  sorry 
to  say  the  colonel's  health  is  so  poor  that  it 
keeps  him  quite  a  recluse.  I  have  a  letter 
from  him  and  a  message  for  you."  His 
bright  eyes  added  plainly  —  "as  soon  as  we 
can  get  rid  of  those  people." 

"Then  you  think  that  a  bill "  —  began 
the  Mayor,  eagerly. 


72    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 


u 


I  think,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Paul  plain 
tively,  "  that  I  and  my  friends  have  already 
tried  the  patience  of  these  two  young  ladies 
quite  enough  yesterday  with  politics  and 
law-making.  I  have  to  catch  the  six-o'clock 
train  to  San  Francisco  this  evening,  and 
have  already  lost  the  time  I  hoped  to  spend 
with  Miss  Yerba  by  missing  her  at  the  con 
vent.  Let  me  stroll  on  here,  if  you  like, 
and  if  I  venture  to  monopolize  the  attention 
of  this  young  lady  for  half  an  hour,  you,  my 
dear  Mr.  Mayor,  who  have  more  frequent 
access  to  her,  I  know,  will  not  begrudge  it  to 
me." 

He  placed  himself  beside  Yerba  and 
Milly,  and  began  an  entertaining,  although, 
I  fear,  slightly  exaggerated,  account  of  his 
reception  by  the  Lady  Superior,  and  her  ev 
ident  doubts  of  his  identity  with  the  trustee 
mentioned  in  Pendleton's  letter  of  introduc 
tion.  "I  confess  she  frightened  me,"  he 
continued,  "  when  she  remarked  that,  accord 
ing  to  my  statement,  I  could  have  been  only 
eighteen  years  old  when  I  became  your 
guardian,  and  as  much  in  want  of  one  as 
you  were.  I  think  that  only  her  belief  that 
Mr.  Woods  and  the  Mayor  would  detect  me 
as  an  impostor  provoked  her  at  last  to  tell 
me  your  whereabouts."' 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    73 

"  But  why  did  they  ever  make  you  a 
trustee,  for  goodness'  sake  ? "  said  Milly, 
naively.  "  Was  there  no  one  grown  up  at 
that  time  that  they  could  have  called  upon  ?  " 

"  Those  were  the  early  days  of  California," 
responded  Paul,  with  great  gravity,  although 
he  was  conscious  that  Yerba  was  regarding 
him  narrowly,  "  and  I  probably  looked  older 
and  more  intelligent  than  I  really  was.  For, 
candidly,"  with  the  consciousness  of  Yerba' s 
eyes  still  upon  him,  "  I  remember  very  little 
about  it.  I  dare  say  I  was  selected,  as  you 
kindly  suggest,  4  for  goodness'  sake.' ' 

"  After  all,"  said  the  volatile  Milly,  who 
seemed  inclined,  as  chaperone,  to  direct  the 
conversation,  "  there  was  something  pretty 
and  romantic  about  it.  You  two  poor  young 
things  taking  care  of  each  other,  for  of  course 
there  were  no  women  here  in  those  days." 

"  Of  course  there  were  women  here,"  in 
terrupted  Yerba,  quickly,  with  a  half-mean 
ing,  half-interrogative  glance  at  Paul  that 
made  him  instinctively  uneasy.  "  You  later 
comers  " —  to  Milly  —  "  always  seem  to  think 
that  there  was  nothing  here  before  you !  " 
She  paused,  and  then  added,  with  a  nai've 
mixture  of  reproach  and  coquetry  that  was 
as  charming  as  it  was  unexpected,  "As  to 


74    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

taking  care  of  each  other,  Mr.  Hathaway 
very  quickly  got  rid  of  me,  I  believe." 

"  But  I  left  you  in  better  hands,  Miss 
Yerba;  and  let  me  thank  you  now,"  he 
added  in  a  lower  tone,  "for  recognizing  it 
as  you  did  a  moment  ago.  I  'm  glad  that 
you  instinctively  liked  Colonel  Pendleton. 
Had  you  known  him  better,  you  would  have 
seen  how  truthful  that  instinct  was.  His 
chief  fault  in  the  eyes  of  our  worthy  friends 
is  that  he  reminds  them  of  a  great  deal  they 
can't  perpetuate  and  much  they  would  like 
to  forget."  He  checked  himself  abruptly. 
"  But  here  is  your  letter,"  he  resumed,  draw 
ing  Colonel  Pendleton's  missive  from  his 
pocket,  "  perhaps  you  would  like  to  read  it 
now,  in  case  you  have  any  message  to  return 
by  me.  Miss  Woods  and  I  will  excuse 
you." 

They  had  reached  the  end  of  the  rose- 
alley,  where  a  summer-house  that  was  in  it 
self  a  rose-bower  partly  disclosed  itself.  The 
other  gentlemen  had  lagged  behind.  "  I 
will  amuse  myself,  and  console  your  other 
guardian,  dear,"  said  the  vivacious  Milly, 
with  a  rapid  exchange  of  glances  with 
Yerba,  "  until  this  horrid  business  is  over. 
Besides,"  she  added  with  cheerful  vague- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE.         75 

ness,  "  after  so  long  a  separation  you  must 
have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  each  other." 

Paul  smiled  as  she  rustled  away,  and 
Yerba,  entering  the  summer-house,  sat  down 
and  opened  the  letter.  The  young  man  re 
mained  leaning  against  the  rustic  archway, 
occasionally  glancing  at  her  and  at  the  mov 
ing  figures  in  the  gardens.  He  was  con 
scious  of  an  odd  excitement  which  he  could 
trace  to  no  particular  cause.  It  was  true 
that  he  had  been  annoyed  at  not  finding  the 
young  girl  at  the  convent,  and  at  having  to 
justify  himself  to  the  Lady  Superior  for 
what  he  conceived  to  be  an  act  of  gratuitous 
kindness ;  nor  was  he  blind  to  the  fact  that 
his  persistence  in  following  her  was  more 
an  act  of  aggression  against  the  enemies  of 
Pendleton  than  of  concern  for  Yerba.  She 
was  certainly  pretty ;  he  could  not  remem 
ber  her  mother  sufficiently  to  trace  any  like 
ness,  and  he  had  never  admired  the  mother's 
pronounced  beauty.  She  had  flashed  out 
for  an  instant  into  what  seemed  originality 
and  feeling.  But  it  had  passed,  and  she 
had  asked  no  further  questions  in  regard  to 
the  colonel. 

She  had  hurriedly  skimmed  through  the 
letter,  which  seemed  to  be  composed  of  cer- 


76    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

tain  figures  and  accounts.  "  I  suppose  it 's 
all  right,"  she  said ;  "  at  least  you  can  say 
so  if  he  asks  you.  It 's  only  an  explanation 
why  he  has  transferred  my  money  from  the 
bank  to  Rothschild's  agent  years  ago.  I  don't 
see  why  it  should  interest  me  now." 

Paul  made  no  doubt  that  it  was  the  same 
transfer  that  had  shipwrecked  the  colonel's 
fortune  and  alienated  his  friends,  and  could 
not  help  replying  somewhat  pointedly,  "  But 
I  think  it  should,  Miss  Yerba.  I  don't  know 
what  the  colonel  explained  to  you  —  doubt 
less,  not  the  whole  truth,  for  he  is  not  a  man 
to  praise  "himself  ;  but,  the  fact  is,  the  bank 
was  in  difficulties  at  the  time  of  that  trans 
fer,  and,  to  make  it,  he  sacrificed  his  per 
sonal  fortune,  and,  I  think,  awakened  some 
of  that  ill-feeling  you  have  just  noticed." 
He  checked  himself  too  late :  he  had  again 
lost  not  only  his  tact  and  self-control,  but 
had  nearly  betrayed  himself.  He  was  sur 
prised  that  the  girl's  justifiable  ignorance 
should  have  irritated  him.  Yet  she  had  evi 
dently  not  noticed,  or  misunderstood  it,  for 
she  said,  with  a  certain  precision  that  was 
almost  studied  :  — 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  would  have  been  a  ter 
rible  thing  to  him  to  have  been  suspected  of 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.         77 

misappropriating  a  Trust  confided  to  him  by 
parties  who  had  already  paid  him  the  high 
compliment  of  confiding  to  his  care  a  secret 
and  a  fortune." 

Paul  glanced  at  her  quickly  with  astonish 
ment.  Was  this  ignorance,  or  suspicion  ? 
Her  manner,  however,  suddenly  changed, 
with  the  charming  capriciousness  of  youth 
and  conscious  beauty.  "  He  speaks  of  you 
in  this  letter,"  she  said,  letting  her  dark  eyes 
rest  on  him  provokingly. 

"  That  accounts  for  your  lack  of  interest 
then,"  said  Paul  gayly,  relieved  to  turn  a 
conversation  fraught  with  so  much  danger. 

"  But  he  speaks  very  flatteringly,"  she 
went  on.  "  He  seems  to  be  another  one  of 
your  admirers.  I'm  sure,  Mr.  Hathaway, 
after  that  scene  in  the  hotel  parlor  yester 
day,  you,  at  least,  cannot  complain  of  hav 
ing  been  misrepresented  before  me.  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  think  I  hated  you  a  little 
for  it." 

"  You  were  quite  right,"  returned  Paul. 
"I  must  have  been  insufferable!  And  I 
admit  that  I  was  slightly  piqued  against  you 
for  the  idolatries  showered  upon  you  at  the 
same  moment  by  your  friends." 

Usually,   when   two   young   people   have 


78    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

reached  the  point  of  confidingly  exchanging 
their  first  impressions  of  each  other,  some 
progress  has  been  made  in  first  acquaint 
ance.  But  it  did  not  strike  Paul  in  that 
way,  and  Yerba's  next  remark  was  discour 
aging. 

"  But  I  'm  rather  disappointed,  for  all 
that.  Colonel  Pendleton  tells  me  you  know 
nothing  of  ray  family  or  of  the  secret." 

Paul  was  this  time  quite  prepared,  and 
withstood  the  girl's  scrutiny  calmly.  "  Do 
you  think,"  he  asked  lightly,  "  that  even  he 
knows?" 

"  Of  course  he  does,"  she  returned  quickly. 
"  Do  you  suppose  he  would  have  taken  all 
that  trouble  you  have  just  talked  about  if 
he  did  n't  know  it  ?  And  feared  the  conse 
quences,  perhaps  ?  "  she  added,  with  a  slight 
return  of  her  previous  expressive  manner. 

Again  Paul  was  puzzled  and  irritated,  he 
knew  not  why.  But  he  only  said  pleasantly, 
"  I  differ  from  you  there.  I  am  afraid  that 
such  a  thing  as  fear  never  entered  into  Colonel 
Pendleton's  calculations  on  any  subject.  I 
think  he  would  act  the  same  towards  the  high 
est  and  the  lowest,  the  powerful  or  the  most 
weak."  As  she  glanced  at  him  quickly  and 
mischievously,  he  added,  "  I  am  quite  will- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    79 

ing  to  believe  that  his  knowledge  of  you 
made  his  duty  pleasanter." 

He  was  again  quite  sincere,  and  his  slight 
sympathy  had  that  irresistible  quality  of 
tone  and  look  which  made  him  so  dangerous. 
For  he  was  struck  with  the  pretty,  soothed 
self-complacency  that  had  shone  in  her  face 
since  he  had  spoken  of  Pendleton's  equal 
disinterestedness.  It  seemed,  too,  as  if  what 
he  had  taken  for  passion  or  petulance  in  her 
manner  had  been  only  a  resistance  to  some 
continual  aggression  of  condition.  With 
that  remainder  held  in  check,  a  certain  la 
tent  nobility  was  apparent,  as  of  her  true 
self.  In  this  moment  of  pleased  abstrac 
tion  she  had  drawn  through  the  lattice-work 
of  one  of  the  windows  a  spray  of  roses 
clinging  to  the  vine,  and  with  her  graceful 
head  a  little  on  one  side,  was  softly  caressing 
her  cheek  with  it.  She  certainly  was  very 
pretty.  From  the  crown  of  her  dark  little 
head  to  the  narrow  rosetted  slippers  that 
had  been  idly  tapping  the  ground,  but  now 
seemed  to  press  it  more  proudly,  with  arched 
insteps  and  small  ankles,  she  was  pleasant 
to  look  upon. 

"  But  you  surely  have  something  else  to 
think  about,  Miss  Yerba  ?  "  said  the  young 


80    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

man,  with  conviction.  "In  a  few  months 
you  will  be  of  age,  and  rid  of  those  dread 
fully  stupid  guardians  ;  with  your  " 

The  loosened  rose-spray  flew  from  her 
hand  out  of  the  window  as  she  made  a  ges 
ture,  half  real,  half  assumed,  of  imploring 
supplication.  "  Oh,  please,  Mr.  Hathaway, 
for  Heaven's  sake  don't  you  begin  too !  You 
are  going  to  say  that,  with  my  wealth,  my 
accomplishments,  my  beauty,  my  friends, 
what  more  can  I  want  ?  What  do  I  care 
about  a  secret  that  can  neither  add  to  them 
nor  take  them  away  ?  Yes,  you  were  !  It 's 
the  regular  thing  to  say  —  everybody  says 
it.  Why,  I  should  have  thought  4  the  young 
est  senator '  could  afford  to  have  been  more 
original." 

"  I  plead  guilty  to  all  the  weaknesses  of 
humanity,"  said  Paul,  warmly,  again  begin 
ning  to  believe  that  he  had  been  most  unjust 
to  her  independence. 

"  Well,  I  forgive  you,  because  you  have 
forgotten  to  say  that,  if  I  don't  like  the 
name  of  Yerba  Buena,  I  could  so  easily 
change  that  too." 

"  But  you  do  like  it,"  said  Paul,  touched 
with  this  first  hearing  of  her  name  in  her 
own  musical  accents,  "  or  would  like  it  if 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    81 

you  heard  yourself  pronounce  it."  It  sud 
denly  recurred  to  him,  with  a  strange  thrill 
of  pleasure,  that  he  himself  had  given  it  to 
her.  It  was  as  if  he  had  created  some  mu 
sical  instrument  to  which  she  had  just  given 
voice.  In  his  enthusiasm  he  had  thrown 
himself  on  the  bench  beside  her  in  an  atti 
tude  that,  I  fear,  was  not  as  dignified  as  be 
came  his  elderly  office. 

" But  you  don't  think  that  is  my  name" 
said  the  girl,  quickly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  said  Paul,  hesitat 
ingly. 

"  You  don't  think  that  anybody  would 
have  been  so  utterly  idiotic  as  to  call  me  af 
ter  a  ground- vine  —  a  vegetable  ?  "  she  con 
tinued  petulantly. 

"  Eh  ?  "  stammered  Paul. 

"A  name  that  could  be  so  easily  trans 
lated,"  she  went  on,  half  scornfully,  "  and 
when  translated,  was  no  possible  title  for 
anybody  ?  Think  of  it  —  Miss  Good  Herb ! 
It  is  too  ridiculous  for  anything." 

Paul  was  not  usually  wanting  in  self-pos 
session  in  an  emergency,  or  in  skill  to  meet 
attack.  But  he  was  so  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  the  girl's  accusation,  and  now  re 
called  so  vividly  his  own  consternation  on 


82    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

hearing  the  result  of  his  youthful  and  ro 
mantic  sponsorship  for  the  first  time  from 
Pendleton,  that  he  was  struck  with  confu 
sion. 

"  But  what  do  you  suppose  it  was  intended 
for  ? "  he  said  at  last,  vaguely.  "  It  was 
certainly  4  Yerba  Buena '  in  the  Trust.  At 
least,  I  suppose  so,"  he  corrected  himself 
hurriedly. 

"It  is  only  a  supposition,"  she  said  quietly, 
"  for  you  know  it  cannot  be  proved.  The 
Trust  was  never  recorded,  and  the  only  copy 
could  not  be  found  among  Mr.  Hammers- 
ley's  papers.  It  is  only  part  of  the  name, 
of  which  the  first  is  lost." 

"  Part  of  the  name  ?  "  repeated  Paul,  un 
easily. 

Part  of  it.  It  is  a  corruption  of  de  la 
Yerba  Buena,  —  of  the  Yerba  Buena,  —  and 
refers  to  the  island  of  Yerba  Buena  in  the 
bay,  and  not  to  the  plant.  That  island  was 
part  of  the  property  of  my  family  —  the  Ar- 
guellos  —  you  will  find  it  so  recorded  in  the 
Spanish  grants.  My  name  is  Arguello  de 
la  Yerba  Buena." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  timid  yet 
triumphant,  the  half-appealing  yet  compla 
cent,  conviction  of  the  girl's  utterance.  A 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    83 

moment  before,  Paul  would  have  believed 
it  impossible  for  him  to  have  kept  his  grav 
ity  and  his  respect  for  his  companion  under 
this  egregious  illusion.  But  he  kept  both. 
For  a  sudden  conviction  that  she  suspected 
the  truth,  and  had  taken  this  audacious  and 
original  plan  of  crushing  it,  overpowered  all 
other  sense.  The  Arguellos,  it  flashed  upon 
him,  were  an  old  Spanish  family,  former 
owners  of  Yerba  Buena  Island,  who  had  in 
the  last  years  become  extinct.  There  had 
been  a  story  that  one  of  them  had  eloped 
with  an  American  ship  captain's  wife  at 
Monterey.  The  legendary  history  of  early 
Spanish  California  was  filled  with  more  re 
markable  incidents,  corroborated  with  little 
difficulty  from  Spanish  authorities,  who,  it 
was  alleged,  lent  themselves  readily  to  any 
fabrication  or  forgery.  There  was  no  racial 
pride :  on  the  contrary,  they  had  shown  an 
eager  alacrity  to  ally  themselves  with  their 
conquerors.  The  friends  of  the  Arguellos 
would  be  proud  to  recognize  and  remember 
in  the  American  heiress  the  descendant  of 
their  countrymen.  All  this  passed  rapidly 
through  his  mind  after  the  first  moment  of 
surprise ;  all  this  must  have  been  the  delib 
erate  reasoning  of  this  girl  of  seventeen, 


84    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

whose  dark  eyes  were  bent  u^on  him. 
Whether  she  was  seeking  corroboration  or 
complicity  he  could  not  tell. 

"  Have  you  found  this  out  yourself  ?  "  he 
asked,  after  a  pause. 

14  Yes.  One  of  my  friends  at  the  convent 
was  Josita  Castro  ;  she  knew  all  the  history 
of  the  Arguellos.  She  is  perfectly  satis 
fied." 

For  an  instant  Paul  wondered  if  it  was  a 
joint  conception  of  the  two  schoolgirls.  But, 
on  reflection,  he  was  persuaded  that  Yerba 
would  commit  herself  to  no  accomplice  —  of 
her  own  sex.  She  might  have  dominated 
the  girl,  and  would  make  her  a  firm  parti 
san,  while  the  girl  would  be  convinced  of  it 
herself,  and  believe  herself  a  free  agent. 
He  had  had  such  experience  with  men  him 
self. 

"  But  why  have  you  not  spoken  of  it  be 
fore  —  and  to  Colonel  Pendleton  ?  " 

"He  did  not  choose  to  tell  me,"  said 
Yerba,  with  feminine  dexterity.  "  I  have 
preferred  to  keep  it  myself  a  secret  till  I  am 
of  age." 

"  When  Colonel  Pendleton  and  some  of 
the  other  trustees  have  no  right  to  say  any 
thing,"  thought  Paul  quickly.  She  had  evi- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    85 

dently  trusted  him.  Yet,  fascinated  as  he 
had  been  by  her  audacity,  he  did  not  know 
whether  to  be  pleased,  or  the  reverse.  He 
would  have  preferred  to  be  placed  on  an 
equal  footing  with  Josita  Castro.  She  an 
ticipated  his  thoughts  by  saying,  with  half- 
raised  eyelids :  — 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  be  so  natural  and  obvious  an 
explanation  of  the  mystery  that  I  only  won 
der  it  was  not  thought  of  before,"  said  Paul, 
with  that  perfect  sincerity  that  made  his 
sympathy  so  effective. 

"  You  see,"  —  still  under  her  pretty  eye 
lids,  and  the  tender  promise  of  a  smile  part 
ing  her  little  mouth,  —  "I  'm  believing  that 
you  tell  the  truth  when  you  say  you  don't 
know  anything  about  it." 

It  was  a  desperate  moment  with  Paul,  but 
his  sympathetic  instincts,  and  possibly  his 
luck,  triumphed.  His  momentary  hesitation 
easily  simulated  the  caution  of  a  conscien 
tious  man  ;  his  knit  eyebrows  and  bright 
eyes,  lowered  in  an  effort  of  memory,  did 
the  rest.  "  I  remember  it  all  so  indistinctly," 
he  said,  with  literal  truthfulness  ;  "  there 
was  a  veiled  lady  present,  tall  and  dark,  to 
whom  Mayor  Hammersley  and  the  colonel 


86    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

showed  a  singular,  and,  it  struck  me,  as  an 
almost  superstitious,  respect.     I   remember 
now,  distinctly,  I   was  impressed  with  the 
reverential  way  they  both  accompanied  her 
to  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  interview." 
He  raised  his  eyes  slightly ;  the  young  girl's 
red  lips  were  parted;  that  illumination   of 
the  skin,  which  was  her  nearest  approach  to 
color,  had  quite  transfigured  her  face.     He 
felt,  suddenly,  that  she  believed  it,  yet  he 
had  no  sense  of  remorse.     He  half  believed 
it  himself ;  at  least,  he  remembered  the  no 
bility  of  the  mother's  self-renunciation  and 
its  effect  upon  the  two  men.     Why  should 
not  the  daughter  preserve  this  truthful  pic 
ture  of  her  mother's  momentary  exaltation  ? 
Which  was  the  most  truthful  —  that,  or  the 
degrading  facts  ?     "  You  speak  of  a  secret," 
he  added.     "  I   can   remember   little  more 
than  that  the   Mayor   asked  me   to  forget 
from  that  moment  the  whole  occurrence.    I 
did  not  know  at  the  time  how  completely  I 
should  fulfill  his  request.    You  must  remem 
ber,   Miss   Yerba,  as  your   Lady  Superior 
has,  that  I  was  absurdly  young  at  the  time. 
I  don't  know  but  that  I  may  have  thought, 
in  my  youthful  inexperience,  that  this  sort 
of  thing  was  of  common  occurrence.     And 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   87 

then,  I  had  my  own  future  to  make  —  and 
youth  is  brutally  selfish.  I  was  quite  friend 
less  and  unknown  when  I  left  San  Francisco 
for  the  mines,  at  the  time  you  entered  the 
convent  as  Yerba  Buena." 

She  smiled,  and  made  a  slight  impulsive 
gesture,  as  if  she  would  have  drawn  nearer 
to  him,  but  checked  herself,  still  smiling, 
and  without  embarrassment.  It  may  have 
been  a  movement  of  youthful  camaraderie, 
and  that  occasional  maternal  rather  than 
sisterly  instinct  which  sometimes  influences 
a  young  girl's  masculine  friendship,  and  ele 
vates  the  favored  friend  to  the  plane  of  the 
doll  she  has  outgrown.  As  he  turned 
towards  her,  however,  she  rose,  shook  out 
her  yellow  dress,  and  said  with  pretty  petu 
lance  :  — 

"  Then  you  must  go  so  soon  —  and  this 
your  first  and  last  visit  as  my  guardian  ?  " 

"  No  one  could  regret  that  more  than  I," 
looking  at  her  with  undefined  meaning. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  tantalizing  co 
quetry  that  might  have  suggested  an  under 
lying  seriousness.  "  I  think  you  have  lost  a 
good  deal.  Perhaps,  so  have  I.  We  might 
have  been  good  friends  in  all  these  years. 
But  that  is  past." 


88    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"Why?  Surely,  I  hope,  my  shortcom 
ings  with  Miss  Yerba  Buena  will  not  be  re 
membered  by  Miss  Arguello?"  said  Paul, 
earnestly. 

"  Ah  !  She  may  be  a  very  different  per 
son." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  young  man,  warmly. 
"But  how  different?" 

"Well,  she  may  not  put  herself  in  the 
way  of  receiving  such  point-blank  compli 
ments  as  that,"  said  the  young  girl,  de 
murely. 

"Not  from  her  guardian  ?  " 
"  She  will  have  no  guardian  then."  She 
said  this  gravely,  but  almost  at  the  same 
moment  turned  and  sat  down  again,  throw 
ing  her  linked  hands  over  her  knee,  and 
looked  at  him  mischievously.  "  You  see 
what  you  have  lost,  sir." 

"  I  see,"  said  Paul,  but  with  all  the  grav 
ity  that  she  had  dropped. 

"  No ;  but  you  don't  see  all.  I  had  no 
brother  —  no  friend.  You  might  have  been 
both.  You  might  have  made  me  what  you 
liked.  You  might  have  educated  me  far 
better  than  these  teachers,  or,  at  least  given 
me  some  pride  in  my  studies.  There  were 
so  many  things  I  wanted  to  know  that  they 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN    GATE.         89 

could  n't  teach  me  ;  so  many  times  I  wanted 
advice  from  some  one  that  I  could  trust. 
Colonel  Pendleton  was  very  good  to  me 
when  he  came  ;  he  always  treated  me  like  a 
princess  even  when  I  wore  short  frocks.  It 
was  his  manner  that  first  made  me  think  he 
knew  my  family ;  but  I  never  felt  as  if  I 
could  tell  him  anything,  and  I  don't  think, 
with  all  his  chivalrous  respect,  he  ever  un 
derstood  me.  As  to  the  others  —  the  May 
ors  —  well,  you  may  judge  from  Mr.  Hen 
derson.  It  is  a  wonder  that  I  did  not  run 
away  or  do  something  desperate.  Now,  are 
you  not  a  little  sorry?  " 

Her  voice,  which  had  as  many  capricious 
changes  as  her  manner,  had  been  alternately 
coquettish,  petulant,  and  serious,  had  now 
become  playful  again.  But,  like  the  rest  of 
her  sex,  she  was  evidently  more  alert  to  her 
surroundings  at  such  a  moment  than  her 
companion,  for  before  he  could  make  any 
reply,  she  said,  without  apparently  looking, 
"  But  there  is  a  deputation  coming  for  you, 
Mr.  Hathaway.  You  see,  the  case  is  hope 
less.  You  never  would  be  able  to  give  to 
one  what  is  claimed  by  the  many." 

Paul  glanced  down  the  rose-alley,  and 
saw  that  the  deputation  in  question  was  com- 


90    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

posed  of  the  Mayor,  Mr.  Woods,  a  thin, 
delicate  -  looking  woman,  —  evidently  Mrs. 
Woods,  —  and  Milly.  The  latter  managed 
to  reach  the  summer-house  first,  with  ap 
parently  youthful  alacrity,  but  really  to  ex 
change,  in  a  single  glance,  some  mysterious 
feminine  signal  with  Yerba.  Then  she  said 
with  breathless  infelicity  :  — 

"  Before  you  two  get  bored  with  each  other 
now,  I  must  tell  3Tou  there  's  a  chance  of  you 
having  more  time.  Aunty  has  promised  to 
send  off  a  note  excusing  you  to  the  Reverend 
Mother,  if  she  can  persuade  Mr.  Hathaway 
to  stay  over  to-night.  But  here  they  are. 
[To  Yerba]  Aunty  is  most  anxious,  and 
won't  hear  of  his  going." 

Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  Mrs.  Woods  was, 
after  a  refined  fashion,  most  concerned  that 
a  distinguished  visitor  like  Mr.  Hathaway 
should  have  to  use  her  house  as  a  mere  acci 
dental  meeting-place  with  his  ward,  without 
deigning  to  accept  her  hospitality.  She  was 
reinforced  by  Mr.  Woods,  who  enunciated 
the  same  idea  with  more  masculine  vigor ; 
and  by  the  Mayor,  who  expressed  his  con 
viction  that  a  slight  of  this  kind  to  Rosario 
would  be  felt  in  the  Santa  Clara  valley. 
"  After  dinner,  my  dear  Hathaway,"  con- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   91 

eluded  Mr.  Woods,  "a  few  of  our  neigh 
bors  may  drop  in,  who  would  be  glad  to 
shake  you  by  the  hand  —  no  formal  meeting, 
my  boy  —  but,  hang  it !  they  expect  it." 

Paul  looked  around  for  Yerba.  There 
was  really  no  reason  why  he  should  n't  ac 
cept,  although  an  hour  ago  the  idea  had 
never  entered  his  mind.  Yet,  if  he  did,  he 
would  like  the  girl  to  know  that  it  was  for 
her  sake.  Unfortunately,  far  from  exhibit 
ing  any  concern  in  the  matter,  she  seemed 
to  be  preoccupied  with  Milly,  and  only  the 
charming  back  of  her  head  was  visible  be 
hind  Mrs.  Woods.  He  accepted,  however, 
with  a  hesitation  that  took  some  of  the  gra- 
ciousness  from  his  yielding,  and  a  sense  that 
he  was  giving  a  strange  importance  to  a 
trivial  circumstance. 

The  necessity  of  attaching  himself  to  his 
hostess,  and  making  a  more  extended  tour 
of  the  grounds,  for  a  while  diverted  him 
from  an  uneasy  consideration  of  his  past 
interview.  Mrs.  Woods  had  known  Yerba 
through  the  school  friendship  of  Milly,  and, 
as  far  as  the  religious  rules  of  the  convent 
would  allow,  had  always  been  delighted  to 
show  her  any  hospitality.  She  was  a  beau 
tiful  girl  —  did  not  Mr.  Hathaway  think  so  ? 


92   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

—  and  a  girl  of  great  character.     It  was  a 
pity,  of  course,  that  she  had  never  known  a 
mother's  care,  and  that  the  present  routine 
of  a  boarding-school  had  usurped  the  tender 
influences  of  home.     She  believed,  too,  that 
the   singular  rotation  of   guardianship  had 
left  the  girl  practically  without   a  counsel 
ing   friend   to  rely   upon,  except,  perhaps, 
Colonel    Pendleton;    and    while    she,    Mrs. 
Woods,  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that  the 
colonel  might  be  a  good  friend  and  a  pleas 
ant  companion  of  men,  really  he,  Mr.  Hath 
away,  must  admit  that,  with  his  reputation 
and  habits,  he  was  hardly  a  fit  associate  for 
a  young  lady.     Indeed,  Mr.  Woods  would 
have  never  allowed  Milly  to  invite  Yerba 
here  if  Colonel  Pendleton  was  to  have  been 
her  escort.     Of  course,  the  poor  girl  could 
not  choose  her  own  guardian,  but  Mr.  Woods 
said  he  had  a  right  to  choose  who  should  be 
his  niece's  company.     Perhaps  Mr.  Woods 
was   prejudiced,  —  most   men    were,  —  yet 
surely    Mr.    Hathaway,   although    a    loyal 
friend  of  Colonel  Pendleton's,   must  admit 
that  when  it  was  an  open  scandal  that  the 
colonel  had  fought  a  duel  about  a  notoriously 
common   woman,  and   even   blasphemously 
defended  her  before  a  party  of  gentlemen, 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.        93 

it  was  high  time,  as  Mr.  Woods  said,  that 
he  should  be  remanded  to  their  company 
exclusively.  No;  Mrs.  Woods  could  not 
admit  that  this  was  owing  to  the  injustice  of 
her  own  sex !  Men  are  really  the  ones  who 
make  the  fuss  over  those  things,  just  as  they, 
as  Mr.  Hathaway  well  knew,  made  the  laws  I 
No  ;  it  was  a  great  pity,  as  she  and  her  hus 
band  had  just  agreed,  that  Mr.  Hathaway, 
of  all  the  guardians,  could  not  have  been 
always  the  help  and  counselor  —  in  fact, 
the  elder  brother  —  of  poor  Yerba!  Paul 
was  conscious  that  he  winced  slightly,  con 
sistently  and  conscientiously,  at  the  recol 
lection  of  certain  passages  of  his  youth  ;  in 
consistently  and  meanly,  at  this  suggestion 
of  a  joint  relationship  with  Yerba's  mother. 

"  I  think,  too,"  continued  Mrs.  Woods, 
"  she  has  worried  foolishly  about  this  ridic 
ulous  mystery  of  her  parentage  —  as  if  it 
could  make  the  slightest  difference  to  a  girl 
with  a  quarter  of  a  million,  or  as  if  that 
did  n't  show  quite  conclusively  that  she  was 
somebody ! " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Paul,  quickly,  with  a 
relief  that  he  nevertheless  felt  was  ridicu 
lous. 

"  And,  of  course,   I  dare  say  it  will  all 


94   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

come  out  when  she  is  of  age.  I  suppose 
you  know  if  any  of  the  family  are  still  liv- 
ino-9" 

iA1O   ' 

"  I  really  do  not." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mrs.  Woods, 
with  a  smile.  "  I  forgot  it 's  a  profound 
secret  until  then.  But  here  we  are  at  the 
house ;  I  see  the  girls  have  walked  over  to 
our  neighbors'.  Perhaps  you  would  like  to 
have  a  few  moments  to  yourself  before  you 
dress  for  dinner,  and  your  portmanteau, 
which  has  been  sent  for,  comes  from  your 
hotel.  You  must  be  tired  of  seeing  so  many 
people." 

Paul  was  glad  to  accept  any  excuse  for 
being  alone,  and,  thanking  his  hostess,  fol 
lowed  a  servant  to  his  room  —  a  low-ceil- 
inged  but  luxuriously  furnished  apartment 
on  the  first  floor.  Here  he  threw  himself 
on  a  cushioned  lounge  that  filled  the  angle 
of  the  deep  embrasure  —  the  thickness  of 
the  old  adobe  walls  —  that  formed  a  part 
of  the  wooden-latticed  window.  A  Cape 
jessamine  climbing  beside  it  filled  the  room 
with  its  subtle,  intoxicating  perfume.  It 
was  so  strong,  and  he  felt  himself  so  irre 
sistibly  overpowered  and  impelled  towards 
a  merely  idle  reverie,  that,  in  order  to  think 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   95 

more  clearly  and  shut  out  some  strange  and 
unreasoning  enthrallment  of  his  senses,  he 
rose  and  sharply  closed  the  window.  Then 
he  sat  down  and  reflected. 

What  was  he  doing  here?  and  what  was 
the  meaning  of  all  this?  He  had  come 
simply  to  fulfill  a  duty  to  his  past,  and  please 
a  helpless  and  misunderstood  old  acquaint 
ance.  He  had  performed  that  duty.  But  he 
had  incidentally  learned  a  certain  fact  that 
might  be  important  to  this  friend,  and  clearly 
his  duty  was  simply  to  go  back  and  report 
it.  He  would  gain  nothing  more  in  the  way 
of  corroboration  of  it  by  staying  now,  if 
further  corroboration  were  required.  Colo 
nel  Pendleton  had  already  been  uselessly 
and  absurdly  perplexed  about  the  possible 
discovery  of  the  girl's  parentage,  and  its 
effect  upon  her  fortunes  and  herself.  She 
had  just  settled  that  of  her  own  accord,  and, 
without  committing  herself  or  others,  had 
suggested  a  really  sensible  plan  by  which 
all  trouble  would  be  avoided  in  future.  That 
was  the  common-sense  way  of  looking  at  it. 
He  would  lay  the  plan  before  the  colonel, 
have  him  judge  of  its  expediency  and  its 
ethics  —  and  even  the  question  whether  she 
already  knew  the  real  truth,  or  was  self-de- 


96   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

ceived.  That  done,  he  would  return  to  his 
own  affairs  in  Sacramento.  There  was  noth 
ing  difficult  in  this,  or  that  need  worry  him, 
only  he  could  have  done  it  just  as  well  an 
hour  ago. 

He  opened  the  window  again.  The  scent 
of  the  jessamine  came  in  as  before,  but  min 
gled  with  the  cooler  breath  of  the  roses. 
There  was  nothing  intoxicating  or  unreal  in 
it  now ;  rather  it  seemed  a  gentle  aromatic 
stimulant  —  of  thought.  Long  shadows  of 
unseen  poplars  beyond  barred  the  garden 
lanes  and  alleys  with  bands  of  black  and 
yellow.  A  slanting  pencil  of  sunshine 
through  the  trees  was  for  a  moment  f ocussed 
on  a  bed  of  waxen  callas  before  a  hed<re  of 

O 

ceanothus,  and  struck  into  dazzling  relief 
the  cold  white  chalices  of  the  flowers  and 
the  vivid  shining  green  of  their  background. 
Presently  it  slid  beyond  to  a  tiny  fountain, 
before  invisible,  and  wrought  a  blinding 
miracle  out  of  its  flashing  and  leaping  spray. 
Yet  even  as  he  gazed  the  fountain  seemed 
to  vanish  slowly,  the  sunbeam  slipped  on, 
and  beyond  it  moved  the  shimmer  of  white 
and  yellow  dresses.  It  was  Yerba  and  Milly 
returning  to  the  house.  Well,  he  would 
not  interrupt  his  reflections  by  idly  watching 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.       97 

them  ;  he  would,  probably,  see  a  great  deal 
of  Yerba  that  evening,  and  by  that  time  he 
would  have  come  to  some  conclusion  in  re 
gard  to  her. 

But  he  had  not  taken  into  consideration 
her  voice,  which,  always  musical  in  its 
Southern  intonation  and  quite  audible  in  the 
quiet  garden,  struck  him  now  as  being  full 
of  joyous  sweetness.  Well,  she  was  certainly 
very  happy  —  or  very  thoughtless.  She 
was  actually  romping  with  Milly,  and  was 
now  evidently  being  chased  down  the  rose- 
alley  by  that  volatile  young  woman.  Then 
these  swift  Camillas  apparently  neared  the 
house,  there  was  the  rapid  rustle  of  skirts, 
the  skurrying  of  little  feet  on  the  veranda, 
a  stumble,  a  mouse-like  shriek  from  Milly, 
and  her  voice,  exhausted,  dying,  happy, 
broken  with  half-hushed  laughter,  rose  to 
him  on  the  breath  of  the  jessamine  and 
rose. 

Surely  she  was  a  child,  and,  if  a  child, 
how  he  had  misjudged  her !  What  if  all 
that  he  had  believed  was  mature  deliberation 
was  only  the  innocent  imaginings  of  a  ro 
mantic  girl,  all  that  he  had  taken  seriously 
only  a  school-girl's  foolish  dream !  Instead 
of  combating  it,  instead  of  reasoning  with 


98    A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

her,  instead  of  trying  to  interest  her  in  other 
things,  he  had  even  helped  on  her  illusions. 
He  had  treated  her  as  if  the  taint  of  her 
mother's  wo rldliness  and  knowledge  of  evil 
was  in  her  pure  young  flesh.  He  had  recog 
nized  her  as  the  daughter  of  an  adventuress, 
and  not  as  his  ward,  appealing  to  his  chivalry 
through  her  very  ignorance  —  it  might  be 
her  very  childish  vanity.  He  had  brought 
to  a  question  of  tender  and  pathetic  interest 
only  his  selfish  opinion  of  the  world  and  the 
weaknesses  of  mankind.  The  blood  came  to 
his  cheeks  —  with  all  his  experienced  self- 
control,  he  had  not  lost  the  youthful  trick 
of  blushing  —  and  he  turned  away  from  the 
window  as  if  it  had  breathed  a  reproach. 

But  ought  he  have  even  contented  himself 
with  destroying  her  illusions  —  ought  he  not 
have  gone  farther  and  told  her  the  whole 
truth?  Ought  he  not  first  have  won  her 
confidence  —  he  remembered  bitterly,  now, 
how  she  had  intimated  that  she  had  no  one 
to  confide  in  —  and,  after  revealing  her 
mother's  history,  have  still  pledged  himself 
to  keep  the  secret  from  all  others,  and  assisted 
her  in  her  plan  ?  It  would  not  have  altered 
the  state  of  affairs,  except  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned ;  they  could  have  combined  to- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.    99 

gether ;  his  ready  wit  would  have  helped  him  ; 
and  his  sympathy  would  have  sustained  her  ; 
but  — 

How  and  in  what  way  could  he  have  told 
her  ?  Leaving  out  the  delicate  and  difficult 
periphrase  by  which  her  mother's  shame 
would  have  to  be  explained  to  an  innocent 
school-girl  —  what  right  could  he  have  as 
sumed  to  tell  it  ?  As  the  guardian  who  had 
never  counseled  or  protected  her?  As  an 
acquaintance  of  hardly  an  hour  ago  ?  Who 
would  have  such  a  right?  A  lover — on 
whose  lips  it  would  only  seem  a  tacit  appeal 
to  her  gratitude  or  her  fears,  and  whom  no 
sensitive  girl  could  accept  thereafter?  No. 
A  husband?  Yes!  He  remembered,  with 
a  sudden  start,  what  Pendleton  had  said  to 
him.  Good  Heavens !  Had  Pendleton  that 
idea  in  his  mind?  And  yet  —  it  seemed 
the  only  solution. 

A  knock  at  his  door  was  followed  by  the 
appearance  of  Mr.  Woods.  Mr.  Hathaway' s 
portmanteau  had  come,  and  Mrs.  Woods  had 
sent  a  message,  saying  that  in  view  of  the 
limited  time  that  Mr.  Hathaway  would  have 
with  his  ward,  Mrs.  Woods  would  forego  her 
right  to  keep  him  at  her  side  at  dinner,  and 
yield  her  place  to  Yerba.  Paul  thanked  him 


100      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

with  a  grave  inward  smile.  What  if  he 
made  his  dramatic  disclosure  to  her  confi 
dentially  over  the  soup  and  fish  ?  Yet,  in 
his  constantly  recurring  conviction  of  the 
girl's  independence,  he  made  no  doubt  she 
would  have  met  his  brutality  with  uiifl inching 
pride  and  self-possession.  He  began  to  dress 
slowly,  at  times  almost  forgetting  himself  in 
a  new  kind  of  pleasant  apathy,  which  he 
attributed  to  the  odor  of  the  flowers,  and 
the  softer  hush  of  twilight  that  had  come 
on  with  the  dying  away  of  the  trade  winds, 
and  the  restful  spice  of  the  bay-trees  near  his 
window.  He  presently  found  himself  not 
so  much  thinking  of  Yerba  as  of  seeing  her. 
A  picture  of  her  in  the  summer-house  caress 
ing  her  cheek  with  the  roses  seemed  to  stand 
out  from  the  shadows  of  the  blank  wall  oppo 
site  him.  When  he  passed  into  the  dressing- 
room  beyond,  it  was  not  his  own  face  he  saw 
in  the  glass,  but  hers.  It  was  with  a  start, 
as  if  he  had  heard  her  voice,  that  he  found 
upon  his  dressing-table  a  small  vase  contain 
ing  a  flower  for  his  coat,  with  the  penciled 
words  on  a  card  in  a  school-girl's  hand, 
"  From  Yerba,  with  thanks  for  staying."  It 
must  have  been  placed  there  by  a  servant 
while  he  was  musing  at  the  window. 


A   WARD    OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      101 

Half  a  dozen  people  were  already  in  the 
drawing-room  when  Paul  descended.  It  ap 
peared  that  Mr.  Woods  had  invited  certain 
of  his  neighbors  —  among  them  a  Judge 
Baker  and  his  wife,  and  Don  Caesar  Briones, 
of  the  adjacent  Rancho  of  Los  Pajaros,  and 
his  sister,  the  Dona  Anna.  Milly  and  Yerba 
had  not  yet  appeared.  Don  Ca3sar,  a  young 
man  of  a  toreador  build,  roundly  bland  in 
face  and  murky  in  eye,  seemed  to  notice 
their  absence,  and  kept  his  glances  towards 
the  door,  while  Paul  engaged  in  conversation 
with  Dona  Anna  —  if  that  word  could  con 
vey  an  impression  of  a  conventionality  which 
that  good-humored  young  lady  converted 
into  an  animated  flirtation  at  the  second 
sentence  with  a  single  glance  and  two  shakes 
of  her  fan.  And  then  Milly  fluttered  in  — 
a  vision  of  school-girl  freshness  and  white 
tulle,  and  a  moment  later  —  with  a  pause  of 
expectation  —  a  tall,  graceful  figure,  that  at 
first  Paul  scarcely  recognized. 

It  is  a  popular  conceit  of  our  sex  that  we 
are  superior  to  any  effect  of  feminine  adorn 
ment,  and  that  a  pretty  girl  is  equally  pretty 
in  the  simplest  frock.  Yet  there  was  not  a 
man  in  the  room  who  did  not  believe 'that 
Yerba  in  her  present  attire  was  not  only  far 


102      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

prettier  than  before,  but  that  she  indicated 
a  new  and  more  delicate  form  of  beauty.  It 
was  not  the  mere  revelation  of  contour  and 
color  of  an  ordinary  decollete  dress,  it  was  a 
perfect  presentment  of  pure  symmetry  and 
carriage.  In  this  black  grenadine  dress, 
trimmed  with  jet,  not  only  was  the  delicate 
satin  sheen  of  her  skin  made  clearer  by  con 
trast,  but  she  looked  every  inch  her  full 
height,  with  an  ideal  exaltation  of  breeding 
and  culture.  She  wore  no  jewelry  except  a 
small  necklace  of  pearls  —  so  small  it  might 
have  been  a  child's  —  that  fitted  her  slender 
throat  so  tightly  that  it  could  scarcely  be 
told  from  the  flesh  that  it  clasped.  Paul 
did  not  know  that  it  was  the  gift  of  the 
mother  to  the  child  that  she  had  forsworn 
only  a  few  weeks  before  she  parted  from  her 
forever ;  but  he  had  a  vague  feeling  that,  in 
that  sable  dress  that  seemed  like  mourning, 
she  walked  at  the  funeral  of  her  mother's 
past.  A  few  white  flowers  in  her  corsage, 
the  companions  of  the  solitary  one  in  his 
button-hole,  were  the  only  relief. 

Their  eyes  met  for  a  single  moment,  the 
look  of  admiration  in  Paul's  being  answered 
by  the  naive  consciousness  in  Yerba's  of  a 
woman  looking  her  best ;  but  the  next  mo- 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     103 

ment  she  appeared  preoccupied  with  the 
others,  and  the  eager  advances  of  Don 
CaBsar. 

"  Your  brother  seems  to  admire  Miss 
Yerba,"  said  Paul. 

"Ah,  ye  —  es,"  returned  Dona  Anna. 
"And  you?" 

"  Oh !  "  said  Paul,  gayly,  "  I?  I  am  her 
guardian  —  with  me  it  is  simple  egotism, 
you  know." 

"  Ah !  "  returned  the  arch  Dona  Anna, 
"you  are  then  already  so  certain  of  her? 
Good  !  I  shall  warn  him." 

A  precaution  that  did  seem  necessary  ;  as 
later,  when  Paul,  at  a  signal  from  his  hostess, 
offered  his  arm  to  Yerba.  the  young  Span 
iard  regarded  him  with  a  look  of  startled 
curiosity. 

"  I  thank  you  for  selecting  me  to  wear 
your  colors,"  said  Paul  with  a  glance  at  the 
flowers  in  her  corsage,  as  they  sat  at  table, 
"  and  I  think  I  deserve  them,  since,  but  for 
you,  I  should  have  been  on  my  way  to  San 
Francisco  at  this  moment.  Shall  I  have 
an  opportunity  of  talking  to  you  a  few  min 
utes  later  in  the  evening  ? "  he  added,  in  a 
lower  tone. 

"  Why  not  now  ?  "  returned  Yerba,  mis- 


104  A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

chievously.  "  We  are  set  here  expressly 
for  that  purpose." 

"  Surely  not  to  talk  of  our  own  business 
—  I  should  say,  of  our  family  affairs,"  said 
Paul,  looking  at  her  with  equal  playfulness  ; 
"  though  I  believe  your  friend  Don  Ca3sar, 
opposite,  would  be  more  pleased  if  he  were 
sure  that  was  all  we  did." 

"  And  you  think  his  sister  would  share  in 
that  pleasure  ?  "  retorted  Yerba.  "  I  warn 
you,  Mr.  Hathaway,  that  you  have  been 
quite  justifying  the  Reverend  Mother's 
doubts  about  your  venerable  pretensions. 
Everybody  is  staring  at  you  now." 

Paul  looked  up  mechanically.  It  was 
true.  Whether  from  some  occult  sympathy, 
from  a  human  tendency  to  admire  obvious 
fitness  and  symmetry,  or  the  innocent  love 
with  which  the  world  regards  innocent  lovers, 
they  were  all  observing  Yerba  and  himself 
with  undisguised  attention.  A  good  talker, 
he  quickly  led  the  conversation  to  other 
topics.  It  was  then  that  he  discovered  that 
Yerba  was  not  only  accomplished,  but  that 
this  convent-bred  girl  had  acquired  a  singu 
lar  breadth  of  knowledge  apart  from  the 
ordinary  routine  of  the  school  curriculum. 
She  spoke  and  thought  with  independent 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      105 

perceptions  and  clearness,  yet  without  the 
tactlessness  and  masculine  abruptness  that 
is  apt  to  detract  from  feminine  originality 
of  reflection.  By  some  tacit  understanding 
that  had  the  charm  of  mutual  confidence, 
they  both  exerted  themselves  to  please  the 
company  rather  than  each  other,  and  Paul, 
in  the  interchange  of  sallies  with  Dona 
Anna,  had  a  certain  pleasure  in  hearing 
Yerba  converse  in  Spanish  with  Don  Ca3sar. 
But  in  a  few  moments  he  observed,  with 
some  uneasiness,  that  they  were  talking  of 
the  old  Spanish  occupation,  and  presently  of 
the  old  Spanish  families.  Would  she  pre 
maturely  expose  an  ignorance  that  might  be 
hereafter  remembered  against  her,  or  invite 
some  dreadful  genealogical  reminiscence  that 
would  destroy  her  hopes  and  raze  her  Span 
ish  castles?  Or  was  she  simply  collecting 
information  ?  He  admired  the  dexterity 
with  which,  without  committing  herself,  she 
made  Don  Caesar  openly  and  even  confiden 
tially  communicative.  And  yet  he  was  on 
thorns  ;  at  times  it  seemed  as  if  he  himself 
were  playing  a  part  in  this  imposture  of 
Yerba's.  He  was  aware  that  his  wandering 
attention  was  noticed  by  the  quick-witted 
Dona  Anna,  when  he  regained  his  self-pos- 


106      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

session  by  what  appeared  to  be  a  happy 
diversion.  It  was  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Judge 
Baker  calling  across  the  table  to  Yerba.  By 
one  of  the  peculiar  accidents  of  general  con 
versation,  it  was  the  one  apparently  trivial 
remark  that  in  a  pause  challenged  the  ears 
of  all. 

"  We  were  admiring  your  necklace,  Miss 
Yerba." 

Every  eye  was  turned  upon  the  slender 
throat  of  the  handsome  girl.  The  excuse 
was  so  natural. 

Yerba  put  her  hand  to  her  neck  with  a 
smile.  uYou  are  joking,  Mrs.  Baker.  I 
know  it  is  ridiculously  small,  but  it  is  a 
child's  necklace,  and  I  wear  it  because  it 
was  a  gift  from  my  mother." 

Paul's  heart  sank  again  with  consterna 
tion.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  heard  the 
girl  distinctly  connect  herself  with  her  actual 
mother,  and  for  an  instant  he  felt  as  startled 
as  if  the  forgotten  Outcast  herself  had  re 
turned  and  taken  a  seat  at  the  board. 

"  I  told  you  it  could  n't  be  so  ?  "  remarked 
Mrs.  Baker,  to  her  husband. 

Everybody  naturally  looked  inquiringly 
upon  the  couple,  and  Mrs.  Baker  explained 
with  a  smile :  "  Bob  thinks  he  's  seen  it  be 
fore;  men  are  so  obstinate." 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   107 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Yerba,"  said  the  Judge, 
blandly,  "  would  you  mind  showing  it  to  me, 
if  it  is  not  too  much  trouble  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Yerba,  smiling,  and  de 
taching  the  circlet  from  her  neck.  "I'm 
afraid  you  '11  find  it  rather  old-fashioned." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  hope  to  find  it,"  said 
Judge  Baker,  with  a  triumphant  glance  at 
his  wife.  "  It  was  eight  years  ago  when  I 
saw  it  in  Tucker's  jewelry  shop.  I  wanted 
to  buy  it  for  my  little  Minnie,  but  as  the 
price  was  steep  I  hesitated,  and  when  I  did 
make  up  my  mind  he  had  disposed  of  it  to 
another  customer.  Yes,"  he  added,  examin 
ing  the  necklace  which  Yerba  had  handed  to 
him.  "  I  am  certain  it  is  the  same  :  it  was 
unique,  like  this.  Odd,  isn't  it?  " 

Everybody  said  it  was  odd,  and  looked 
upon  the  occurrence  with  that  unreasoning 
satisfaction  with  which  average  humanity 
receives  the  most  trivial  and  unmeaning  co 
incidences.  It  was  left  to  Don  Caesar  to 
give  it  a  gallant  application. 

"  I  have  not-a  the  pleasure  of  knowing-a 
the  Miss  Minnie,  but  the  jewelry,  when  she 
arrives,  to  the  throat-a  of  Miss  Yerba,  she 
has  not  lost  the  value  —  the  beauty  —  the 
charm." 


108      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  No,'1  said  Woods,  cheerily.  "  The  fact 
is,  Baker,  you  were  too  slow.  Miss  Yerba's 
folks  gobbled  up  the  necklace  while  you  were 
thinking.  You  were  a  new-comer.  Old 
1  forty-niners  '  did  not  hesitate  over  a  thing 
they  wanted." 

"  You  never  knew  who  was  your  success 
ful  rival,  eh  ?  "  said  Dona  Anna,  turning  to 
Judge  Baker  with  a  curious  glance  at  Paul's 
pale  face  in  passing. 

"No,"  said  Baker,  "but"  — he  stopped 
with  a  hesitating  laugh  and  some  little  con 
fusion.  "  No,  I  've  mixed  it  up  with  some 
thing  else.  It 's  so  long  ago.  I  never 
knew,  or  if  I  did  I  Ve  forgotten.  But  the 
necklace  I  remember."  He  handed  it  back 
to  Yerba  with  a  bow,  and  the  incident 
ended. 

Paul  had  not  looked  at  Yerba  during  this 
conversation,  an  unreasoning  instinct  that 
he  might  confuse  her,  an  equally  unreason 
ing  dread  that  he  might  see  her  confused  by 
others,  possessing  him.  And  when  he  did 
glance  at  her  calm,  untroubled  face,  that 
seemed  only  a  little  surprised  at  his  own 
singular  coldness,  he  was  by  no  means  re 
lieved.  He  was  only  convinced  of  one  thing. 
In  the  last  five  minutes  he  had  settled  upon 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      109 

the  irrevocable  determination  that  his  pres 
ent  relations  with  the  girl  could  exist  no 
longer.  He  must  either  tell  her  everything, 
or  see  her  no  more.  There  was  no  middle 
course.  She  was  on  the  brink  of  an  exposure 
at  any  moment,  either  through  her  ignorance 
or  her  unhappy  pretension.  In  his  intoler 
able  position,  he  was  equally  unable  to  con 
template  her  peril,  accept  her  defense,  or 
himself  defend  her. 

As  if,  with  some  feminine  instinct,  she 
had  attributed  his  silence  to  some  jealousy 
of  Don  Caesar's  attentions,  she  more  than 
once  turned  from  the  Spaniard  to  Paul  with 
an  assuring  smile.  In  his  anxiety,  he  half 
accepted  the  rather  humiliating  suggestion, 
and  managed  to  say  to  her,  in  a  lower  tone  : 

"On  this  last  visit  of  your  American 
guardian,  one  would  think,  you  need  not 
already  anticipate  your  Spanish  relations." 

He  was  thrilled  with  the  mischievous  yet 
faintly  tender  pleasure  that  sparkled  in  her 
eyes  as  she  said,  — 

"  You  forget  it  is  my  American  guardian's 
first  visit,  as  well  as  his  last." 

"And  as  your  guardian,"  he  went  on, 
with  half -veiled  seriousness,  "I  protest 
against  your  allowing  your  treasures,  the 


110      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

property  of  the  Trust,"  he  gazed  directly  into 
her  beautiful  eyes,  "  being  handled  and  com 
mented  upon  by  everybody." 

When  the  ladies  had  left  the  table,  he 
was,  for  a  moment,  relieved.  But  only  for 
a  moment.  Judge  Baker  drew  his  chair 
beside  Paul's,  and,  taking  his  cigar  from  his 
his  lips,  said,  with  a  perfunctory  laugh  :  — 

"I  say,  Hathaway,  I  pulled  up  just  in 
time  to  save  myself  from  making  an  awful 
speech,  just  now,  to  your  ward." 

Paul  looked  at  him  with  cold  curiosity. 

"  Yes.  Gad  !  Do  you  know  who  was  my 
rival  in  that  necklace  transaction  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  with  frigid  carelessness. 

"Why,  Kate  Howard!  Fact,  sir.  She 
bought  it  right  under  rny  nose  —  and  over 
bid  me,  too." 

Paul  did  not  lose  his  self-possession. 
Thanks  to  the  fact  that  Yerba  was  not  pres 
ent,  and  that  Don  Caesar,  who  had  overheard 
the  speech,  moved  forward  with  a  suggestive 
and  unpleasant  smile,  his  agitation  congealed 
into  a  coldly  placid  fury. 

"  And  I  suppose,"  he  returned,  with  per 
fect  calmness,  "  that,  after  the  usual  habit  of 
this  class  of  women,  the  necklace  very  soon 
found  its  way  back,  through  the  pawnbroker, 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   HI 

to  the  jeweler  again.  It  's  a  common 
fate." 

"Yes,  of  course,"  said  Judge  Baker, 
cheerfully.  "  You  're  quite  right.  That 's 
undoubtedly  the  solution  of  it.  But,"  with 
a  laugh,  "  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from  say 
ing  something  —  eh?  " 

"A  very  narrow  escape  from  an  appar 
ently  gratuitous  insult,"  said  Paul,  gravely, 
but  fixing  his  eyes,  now  more  luminous  than 
ever  with  anger,  not  on  the  speaker,  but  on 
the  face  of  Don  Caesar,  who  was  standing  at 
his  side.  "You  were  about  to  say,"  — 

"Eh — oh  —  ah!  this  Kate  Howard? 
So  !  I  have  heard  of  her  —  yees  !  And 
Miss  Yerba  —  ah  —  she  is  of  my  country 
—  I  think.  Yes  —  we  shall  claim  her  —  of 
a  truth  —  yes." 

"  Your  countrymen,  I  believe,  are  in  the 
habit  of  making  claims  that  are  more  often 
founded  on  profit  than  verity,"  said  Paul, 
with  smileless  and  insulting  deliberation. 
He  knew  perfectly  what  he  was  saying,  and 
the  result  he  expected.  Only  twenty-four 
hours  before  he  had  smiled  at  Pendleton's 
idea  of  averting  scandal  and  discovery  by 
fighting,  yet  he  was  endeavoring  to  pick  a 
quarrel  with  a  man,  merely  on  suspicion,  for 


112      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  same  purpose,  and  he  saw  nothing  strange 
in  it.  A  vague  idea,  too,  that  this  would 
irrevocably  confirm  him  in  opposition  to 
Yerba's  illusions  probably  determined  him. 

But  Don  Caesar,  albeit  smiling  lividly, 
did  not  seem  inclined  to  pick  up  the  gaunt 
let,  and  Woods  interfered  hastily.  "  Don 
Ca3sar  means  that  your  ward  has  some  idea 
herself  that  she  is  of  Spanish  origin  —  at 
least,  Milly  says  so.  But  of  course,  as  one 
of  the  oldest  trustees,  you  know  the  facts." 

In  another  moment  Paul  would  have  com 
mitted  himself.  "  I  think  we  '11  leave  Miss 
Yerba  out  of  the  question,"  he  said,  coldly. 
"  My  remark  was  a  general  one,  although, 
of  course,  I  am  responsible  for  any  personal 
application  of  it." 

"Spoken  like  a  politician,  Hathaway," 
said  Judge  Baker,  with  an  effusive  enthu 
siasm,  which  he  hoped  would  atone  for  the 
alarming  results  of  his  infelicitous  speech. 
"  That 's  right,  gentlemen  !  You  can't  get 
the  facts  from  him  before  he  is  ready  to  give 
them.  Keep  your  secret,  Mr.  Hathaway, 
the  court  is  with  you." 

Nevertheless,  as  they  passed  out  of  the 
room  to  join  the  ladies,  the  Mayor  lingered 
a  little  behind  with  Woods.  "  It's  easy  to 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      113 

see  the  influence  of  that  Peiidleton  on  our 
young  friend,"  he  said,  significantly.  *'  Some 
body  ought  to  tell  him  that  it 's  played  out 
down  here  —  as  Pendleton  is.  It's  quite 
enough  to  ruin  his  career." 

Paul  was  too  observant  not  to  notice  this, 
but  it  brought  him  no  sense  of  remorse  ;  and 
his  youthful  belief  in  himself  and  his  power 
kept  him  from  concern.  He  felt  as  if  he 
had  done  something,  if  only  to  show  Don 
Caesar  that  the  girl's  weakness  or  ignorance 
could  not  be  traded  upon  with  impunity. 
But  he  was  still  undecided  as  to  the  course 
he  should  pursue.  But  he  should  determine 
that  to-night.  At  present  there  seemed  no 
chance  of  talking  to  her  alone  —  she  was 
unconcernedly  conversing  with  Milly  and 
Mrs.  Woods,  and  already  the  visitors  who 
had  been  invited  to  this  hurried  levee  in  his 
honor  were  arriving.  In  view  of  his  late 
indiscretion,  he  nervously  exerted  his  fullest 
powers,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes  was  sur 
rounded  by  a  breathless  and  admiring  group 
of  worshipers.  A  ludicrous  resemblance  to 
the  scene  in  the  Golden  Gate  Hotel  passed 
through  his  mind  ;  he  involuntarily  turned 
his  eyes  to  seek  Yerba  in  the  half-fear,  half- 
expectation  of  meeting  her  mischievous  smile. 


114      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE. 

Their  glances  met  ;  to  his  surprise  hers  was 
smileless,  and  instantly  withdrawn,  but  not 
until  he  had  been  thrilled  by  an  unconscious 
prepossession  in  its  luminous  depths  that  he 
scarcely  dared  to  dwell  upon.  What  mat 
tered  now  this  passage  with  Don  Caesar  or 
the  plaudits  of  his  friends  ?  She  was  proud 
of  him ! 

Yet,  after  that  glance,  she  was  shy,  pre 
occupying  herself  with  Milly,  or  even  listen 
ing  sweetly  to  Judge  Baker's  somewhat 
practical  and  unromantic  reminiscences  of 
the  deprivations  and  the  hardships  of  Cali 
fornia  early  days,  as  if  to  condone  his  past 
infelicity.  She  was  pleasantly  unaffected 
with  Don  Ca3sar,  although  she  managed  to 
draw  Dona  Anna  into  the  conversation  ;  she 
was  unconventional,  Paul  fancied,  to  all  but 
himself.  Once  or  twice,  when  he  had  art 
fully  drawn  her  towards  the  open  French 
window  that  led  to  the  moonlit  garden  and 
shadowed  veranda,  she  had  managed  to  link 
Milly's  arm  in  her  own,  and  he  was  confi 
dent  that  a  suggestion  to  stroll  with  him  in 
the  open  air  would  be  followed  by  her  invi 
tation  to  Milly  to  accompany  them.  Disap 
pointed  and  mortified  as  he  was,  he  found 
some  solace  in  her  manner,  \\hich  he  still 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   115 

believed  suggested  the  hope  that  she  might 
be  made  accessible  to  his  persuasions.  Per 
suasions  to  what  ?  He  did  not  know. 

The  last  guest  had  departed  ;  he  lingered 
on  the  veranda  with  a  cigar,  begging  his 
host  and  hostess  not  to  trouble  themselves  to 
keep  him  company.  Milly  and  Yerba  had 
retired  to  the  former's  boudoir,  but,  as  they 
had  not  yet  formally  bade  him  good  night, 
there  was  a  chance  of  their  returning.  He 
still  stayed  on  in  this  hope  for  half  an  hour, 
and  then,  accepting  Yerba's  continued  ab 
sence  as  a  tacit  refusal  of  his  request,  he 
turned  abruptly  away.  But  as  he  glanced 
around  the  garden  before  reentering  the 
house,  he  was  struck  by  a  singular  circum 
stance  —  a  white  patch,  like  a  forgotten 
shawl,  which  he  had  observed  on  the  distant 
ceanothus  hedge,  and  which  had  at  first 
thrilled  him  with  expectation,  had  certainly 
changed  its  position.  Before,  it  seemed  to 
be  near  the  summer-house  ;  now  it  was,  un 
doubtedly,  farther  away.  Could  they,  or 
she  alone,  have  slipped  from  the  house  and 
be  awaiting  him  there?  AVith  a  muttered 
exclamation  at  his  stupidity  he  stepped  has 
tily  from  the  veranda  and  walked  towards  it. 
But  he  had  scarcely  proceeded  a  dozen  yards 


116     A   WARD    OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

before  it  disappeared.  He  reached  the  sum 
mer-house  —  it  was  empty ;  he  followed  the 
line  of  hedge  —  no  one  was  there.  It  could 
not  have  been  her,  or  she  would  have  waited, 
unless  he  were  the  victim  of  a  practical  joke. 
He  turned  impatiently  back  to  the  house, 
reentered  the  drawing-room  by  the  French 
window,  and  was  crossing  the  half-lit  apart 
ment,  when  he  heard  a  slight  rustle  in  the 
shadow  of  the  window.  He  looked  around 
quickly,  and  saw  that  it  was  Yerba,  in  a 
white,  loose  gown,  for  which  she  had  already 
exchanged  her  black  evening  dress,  leaning 
back  composedly  on  the  sofa,  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her  shapely  head. 

"  I  am  waiting  for  Milly,"  she  said,  with 
a  faint  smile  on  her  lips.  He  fancied,  in 
the  moonlight  that  streamed  upon  her,  that 
her  beautiful  face  was  pale.  "  She  has  gone 
to  the  other  wing  to  see  one  of  the  servants 
who  is  ill.  We  thought  you  were  on  the 
veranda  smoking  and  I  should  have  com 
pany,  until  I  saw  you  start  off,  and  rush  up 
and  down  the  hedge  like  mad." 

Paul  felt  that  he  was  losing  his  self-pos 
session,  and  becoming  nervous  in  her  pres 
ence.  "  I  thought  it  was  you"  he  stammered. 

"  Me !      Out  in  the  garden  at  this  hour, 


A   WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.       117 

alone,  and  in  the  broad  moonlight  ?  What 
are  you  thinking  of,  Mr.  Hathaway  ?  Do 
you  know  anything  of  convent  rules,  or  is 
that  your  idea  of  your  ward's  education  ?  " 

He  fancied  that,  though  she  smiled  faintly, 
her  voice  was  as  tremulous  as  his  own. 

"  I  want  to  speak  with  you,"  he  said,  with 
awkward  directness.  "  I  even  thought  of 
asking  you  to  stroll  with  me  in  the  garden." 

u  Why  not  talk  here  ? "  she  returned, 
changing  her  position,  pointing  to  the  other 
end  of  the  sofa,  and  drawing  the  whole  over 
flow  of  her  skirt  to  one  side.  "  It  is  not  so 
very  late,  and  Milly  will  return  in  a  few  mo 
ments." 

Her  face  was  in  shadow  now,  but  there 
was  a  glow-worm  light  in  her  beautiful  eyes 
that  seemed  faintly  to  illuminate  her  whole 
face.  He  sank  down  on  the  sofa  at  her  side, 
no  longer  the  brilliant  and  ambitious  poli 
tician,  but,  it  seemed  to  him,  as  hopelessly  a 
dreaming,  inexperienced  boy  as  when  he  had 
given  her  the  name  that  now  was  all  he 
could  think  of,  and  the  only  word  that  rose 
to  his  feverish  lips. 

"  Yerba !  " 

"I  like  to  hear  you  say  it,"  she  said 
quickly,  as  if  to  gloss  over  his  first  omission 


118      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

of  her  formal  prefix,  and  leaning  a  little  for 
ward,  with  her  eyes  on  his.  "One  would 
think  you  had  created  it.  You  almost  make 
me  regret  to  lose  it." 

He  stopped.  He  felt  that  the  last  sen 
tence  had  saved  him.  "  It  is  of  that  I  want 
to  speak,"  he  broke  out  suddenly  and  almost 
rudely.  "  Are  you  satisfied  that  it  means 
nothing,  and  can  mean  nothing,  to  you  ? 
Does  it  awaken  no  memory  in  your  mind  — 
recall  nothing  you  care  to  know  ?  Think  ! 
I  beg  you,  I  implore  you  to  be  frank  with 
me!" 

She  looked  at  him  with  surprise. 

"  I  have  told  you  already  that  my  present 
name  must  be  some  absurd  blunder,  or  some 
intentional  concealment.  But  why  do  you 
want  to  know  now  ?  "  she  continued,  adding 
her  faint  smile  to  the  emphasis. 

"  To  help  you  !  "  he  said,  eagerly.  "  For 
that  alone  !  To  do  all  I  can  to  assist  you, 
if  you  really  believe,  and  want  to  believe, 
that  you  have  another.  To  ask  you  to  con 
fide  in  me ;  to  tell  me  all  you  have  been  told, 
all  that  you  know,  think  you  know,  or  want  to 
know  about  your  relationship  to  the  Arguel- 
los  —  or  to  —  any  one.  And  then  to  devote 
myself  entirely  to  proving  what  you  shall 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE       119 

say  is  your  desire.  You  see,  I  am  frank 
with  you,  Yerba.  I  only  ask  you  to  be  as 
frank  with  me  ;  to  let  me  know  your  doubts, 
that  I  may  counsel  you ;  your  fears,  that  I 
may  give  you  courage." 

"  Is  that  all  you  came  here  to  tell  me  ?  " 
she  asked  quietly. 

"No,  Yerba,"  he  said,  eagerly,  taking  her 
unresisting  but  indifferent  hand,  "  not  all ; 
but  all  that  I  must  say,  all  that  I  have  the 
right  to  say,  all  that  you,  Yerba,  would  per 
mit  me  to  tell  you  now.  But  let  me  hope 
that  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  I  can 
tell  you  all,  when  you  will  understand  that 
this  silence  has  been  the  hardest  sacrifice  of 
the  man  who  now  speaks  to  you." 

"  And  yet  not  unworthy  of  a  rising  poli 
tician,"  she  added,  quickly  withdrawing  her 
hand.  "  I  agree,"  she  went  on,  looking  to 
wards  the  door,  yet  without  appearing  to 
avoid  his  eager  eyes,  "  and  when  I  have  set 
tled  upon  'a  local  habitation  and  a  name' 
we  shall  renew  this  interesting  conversation. 
Until  then,  as  my  fourth  official  guardian 
used  to  say— -he  was  a  lawyer,  Mr.  Hath 
away,  like  yourself  —  when  he  was  winding 
up  his  conjectures  on  the  subject  —  all  that 
has  passed  is  to  be  considered  '  without  pre 
judice.'  " 


120      A   WARD   OF  TII£  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  But  Yerba  "  —  began  Paul,  bitterly. 

She  slightly  raised  her  hand  as  if  to  check 
him  with  a  warning  gesture.  "  Yes,  dear," 
she  said  suddenly,  lifting  her  musical  voice, 
with  a  mischievous  side-glance  at  Paul,  as  if 
to  indicate  her  conception  of  the  irony  of  a 
possible  application,  "  this  way.  Here  we 
are  waiting  for  you."  Her  listening  ear 
had  detected  Milly's  step  in  the  passage,  and 
in  another  moment  that  cheerful  young  wo 
man  discreetly  stopped  on  the  threshold  of 
the  room,  with  every  expression  of  apologetic 
indiscretion  in  her  face. 

"  We  have  finished  our  talk,  and  Mr. 
Hathaway  has  been  so  concerned  about  my 
having  no  real  name  that  he  has  been  prom 
ising  me  everything,  but  his  own,  for  a  suit 
able  one.  Have  n't  you,  Mr.  Hathaway  ?  " 
She  rose  slowly  and,  going  over  to  Milly, 
put  her  arm  around  her  waist  and  stood  for 
one  instant  gazing  at  him  between  the  cur 
tains  of  the  doorway.  "  Good  night.  My 
very  proper  chaperon  is  dreadfully  shocked 
at  this  midnight  interview,  and  is  taking  me 
away.  Only  think  of  it,  Milly  ;  he  actually 
proposed  to  me  to  walk  in  the  garden  with 
him  !  Good  night,  or,  as  my  ancestors  — 
don't  forget,  my  ancestors  —  used  to  say : 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   121 

4  Buena  noche  —  hasta  manana  ! '  She 
lingered  over  the  Spanish  syllables  with  an 
imitation  of  Dona  Anna's  lisp,  and  with  an 
other  smile,  but  more  faint  and  more  ghost 
like  than  before,  vanished  with  her  com 
panion. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning  Paul 
was  standing  beside  his  portmanteau  on  the 
veranda. 

"  But  this  is  a  sudden  resolution  of  yours, 
Hathaway,"  said  Mr.  Woods.  "  Can  you 
not  possibly  wait  for  the  next  train  ?  The 
girls  will  be  down  then,  and  you  can  break 
fast  comfortably." 

"  I  have  much  to  do  —  more  than  I  im 
agined —  in  San  Francisco  before  I  return," 
said  Paul,  quickly.  "  You  must  make  my 
excuses  to  them  and  to  your  wife." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Woods,  with  an  uneasy 
laugh,  "  you  have  had  no  more  words  with 
Don  Caesar,  or  he  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  with  a  reassuring  smile, 
"  nothing  more,  I  assure  you." 

"  For  you  know  you  're  a  devilish  quick 
fellow,  Hathaway,"  continued  Woods,  "  quite 
as  quick  as  your  friend  Pendleton.  And, 
by  the  way,  Baker  is  awfully  cut  up  about 
that  absurd  speech  of  his,  you  know.  Came 


122      A   WARD    OF  THE   GOLDEN    GATE. 

to  me  last  night  and  wondered  if  anybody 
could  think  it  was  intentional.  I  told  him 
it  was  d — d  stupid,  that  was  all.  I  guess 
his  wife  had  been  at  him.  Ha !  ha  !  You 
see,  he  remembers  the  old  times,  when  every 
body  talked  of  these  things,  and  that  woman 
Howard  was  quite  a  character.  I  'm  told 
she  went  off  to  the  States  years  ago." 

"  Possibly,"  said  Paul,  carelessly.  After 
a  pause,  as  the  carriage  drove  up  to  the 
door,  he  turned  to  his  host.  "  By  the  way, 
Woods,  have  you  a  ghost  here  ?  " 

"  The  house  is  old  enough  for  one.  But 
no.  Why?" 

"  I  '11  swear  I  saw  a  figure  moving  yonder, 
in  the  shrubbery,  late  last  evening ;  and 
when  I  came  up  to  it,  it  most  unaccountably 
disappeared." 

"  One  of  Don  Caesar's  servants,  I  dare 
say.  There  is  one  of  them,  an  Indian, 
prowling  about  here,  I  've  been  told,  at  all 
hours.  I'll  put  a  stop  to  it.  Well,  you 
must  go  then  ?  Dreadfully  sorry  you 
could  n't  stop  longer !  Good-by  !  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IT  was  two  months  later  that  Mr.  Tony 
Shear,  of  Marysville,  but  lately  confidential 
clerk  to  the  Hon.  Paul  Hathaway,  entered 
his  employer's  chambers  in  Sacramento,  and 
handed  the  latter  a  letter. 

"  I  only  got  back  from  San  Francisco  this 
morning ;  but  Mr.  Slate  said  I  was  to  give 
you  that,  and  if  it  satisfied  you,  and  was 
what  you  wanted,  you  would  send  it  back  to 
him." 

Paul  took  the  envelope  and  opened  it.  It 
contained  a  printer's  proof -slip,  which  he 
hurriedly  glanced  over.  It  read  as  follows : 
"Those  of  our  readers  who  are  familiar 
with  the  early  history  of  San  Francisco  will 
be  interested  to  know  that  an  eccentric  and 
irregular  trusteeship,  vested  for  the  last 
eight  years  in  the  Mayor  of  San  Francisco 
and  two  of  our  oldest  citizens,  was  termi 
nated  yesterday  by  the  majority  of  a  beauti 
ful  and  accomplished  young  lady,  a  pupil  of 
the  convent  of  Santa  Clara.  Very  few,  ex- 


124      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

cept  the  original  trustees,  were  cognizant  of 
the  fact  that  the  administration  of  the 
trustees  has  been  a  recognized  function  of 
the  successive  Mayors  of  San  Francisco  dur 
ing  this  period  ;  and  the  mystery  surround 
ing  it  has  been  only  lately  divulged.  It 
offers  a  touching  and  romantic  instance  of  a 
survival  of  the  old  patriarchal  duties  of  the 
former  Alcaldes  and  the  simplicity  of  pioneer 
days.  It  seems  that,  in  the  unsettled  condi 
tions  of  the  Mexican  land-titles  that  followed 
the  American  occupation,  the  consumptive 
widow  of  a  scion  of  one  of  the  oldest  Cali- 
fornian  families  intrusted  her  property  and 
the  custody  of  her  infant  daughter  virtually 
to  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  as  represented 
by  the  trustees  specified,  until  the  girl  should 
become  of  age.  Within  a  year,  the  invalid 
mother  died.  With  what  loyalty,  sagacity, 
and  prudence  these  gentlemen  fulfilled  their 
trust  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  the 
property  left  in  their  charge  has  not  only 
been  secured  and  protected,  but  increased  a 
hundredfold  in  value ;  and  that  the  young- 
lady,  who  yesterday  attained  her  majority,  is 
not  only  one  of  the  richest  landed  heiresses 
on  the  Pacific  Slope,  but  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  and  thoroughly  educated  of 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      125 

her  sex.  It  is  now  no  secret  that  this  favored 
child  of  Chrysopolis  is  the  Dona  Maria  Con- 
cepcion  de  Arguello  de  la  Yerba  Buena,  so 
called  from  her  ancestral  property  on  the 
island,  now  owned  by  the  Federal  govern 
ment.  But  it  is  an  affecting  and  poetic  trib 
ute  to  the  parent  of  her  adoption  that  she 
has  preferred  to  pass  under  the  old,  quaintly 
typical  name  of  the  city,  and  has  been  known 
to  her  friends  simply  as  '  Miss  Yerba 
Buena.'  It  is  a  no  less  pleasant  and  sug 
gestive  circumstance  that  our  '  youngest 
senator/  the  Honorable  Paul  Hathaway, 
formerly  private  secretary  to  Mayor  Ham- 
mersley,  is  one  of  the  original  unofficial 
trustees;  while  the  chivalry  of  the  older 
days  is  perpetuated  in  the  person  of  Colonel 
Harry  Pendleton,  the  remaining  trustee." 

As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  Paul  took  a 
pencil  and  crossed  out  the  last  sentence ;  but 
instead  of  laying  the  proof  aside,  or  return 
ing  it  to  the  waiting  secretary,  he  remained 
with  it  in  his  hand,  his  silent,  set  face  turned 
towards  the  window.  Whether  the  merely 
human  secretary  was  tired  of  waiting,  or  the 
devoted  partisan  saw  something  on  his  young 
chief's  face  that  disturbed  him,  he  turned  to 
Paul  with  that  exaggerated  respect  which  his 


126      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

functions  as  secretary  had  grafted  upon  his 
affection  for  his  old  associate,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  hope  nothing  's  wrong,  sir.  Not  an 
other  of  those  scurrilous  attacks  on  you  for 
putting  that  bill  through  to  relieve  Colonel 
Pendleton  ?  Yet  it  was  a  risky  thing  for 
you,  sir." 

Paul  started,  recovered  himself  as  if  from 
some  remote  abstraction,  and,  with  a  smile, 
said  :  "  No,  —  nothing.  Quite  the  reverse. 
Write  to  Mr.  Slate,  thank  him,  and  say  that 
it  will  do  very  well  —  with  the  exception  of 
the  lines  I  have  marked  out.  Then  bring 
me  the  letter,  and  I  will  add  this  inclosure. 
Did  you  call  on  Colonel  Pendleton  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.  Pie  was  at  Santa  Clara,  and 
had  not  yet  returned,  —  at  least,  that 's  what 
that  dandy  nigger  of  his  told  me.  The  airs 
and  graces  that  that  creature  puts  on  since 
the  colonel's  affairs  have  been  straightened 
out  is  a  little  too  much  for  a  white  man  to 
stand.  Why,  sir  !  d — d  if  he  did  n't  want 
to  patronize  you,  and  allowed  to  me  that 
'  de  Kernel '  had  a  4  fah  ideah  '  of  you,  '  and 
thought  you  a  promisin'  young  man.'  The 
fact  is,  sir,  the  party  is  making  a  big  mistake 
trying  to  give  votes  to  that  kind  of  cattle  — 
it  would  only  be  giving  two  votes  to  the 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      127 

other  side,  for,  slave  or  free,  they're  the 
chattels  of  their  old  masters.  And  as  to  the 
masters'  gratitude  for  what  you  've  done  af 
fecting  a  single  vote  of  their  party  —  you  're 
mistaken." 

"  Colonel  Pendleton  belongs  to  no  party," 
said  Paul,  curtly ;  '*  but  if  his  old  con 
stituents  ever  try  to  get  into  power  again, 
they  've  lost  their  only  independent  martyr." 

He  presently  became  abstracted  again, 
and  Shear  produced  from  his  overcoat  pocket 
a  series  of  official-looking  documents. 

"  I  've  brought  the  reports,  sir." 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  Paul,  absently. 

The  secretary  stared.  "The  reports  of 
the  San  Francisco  Chief  of  Police  that  you 
asked  me  to  get."  His  employer  was  cer 
tainly  very  forgetful  to-day. 

"Oh,  yes ;  thank  you.  You  can  lay  them 
on  my  desk.  I  '11  look  them  over  in  Com 
mittee.  You  can  go  now,  and  if  any  one 
calls  to  see  me  say  I  'm  busy." 

The  secretary  disappeared  in  the  adjoining 
room,  and  Paul  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
thinking.  He  had,  at  last,  effected  the  work 
he  had  resolved  upon  when  he  left  Rosario 
two  months  ago;  the  article  he  had  just 
read,  and  which  would  appear  as  an  editorial 


128   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

in  the  San  Francisco  paper  the  day  after  to 
morrow,  was  the  culmination  of  quietly  per 
sistent  labor,  inquiry,  and  deduction,  and 
would  be  accepted,  hereafter,  as  authentic 
history,  which,  if  not  thoroughly  established, 
at  least  could  not  be  gainsaid.  Immediately 
on  arriving  at  San  Francisco,  he  had  has 
tened  to  Pendleton's  bedside,  and  laid  the 
facts  and  his  plan  before  him.  To  his  min 
gled  astonishment  and  chagrin,  the  colonel 
had  objected  vehemently  to  this  "saddling 
of  anybody's  offspring  on  a  gentleman  who 
could  n't  defend  himself,''  and  even  Paul's 
explanation  that  the  putative  father  was  a 
myth  scarcely  appeased  him.  But  Paul's 
timely  demonstration,  by  relating  the  scene 
he  had  witnessed  of  J  udge  Baker's  infelici 
tous  memory,  that  the  secret  was  likely  to  be 
revealed  at  any  moment,  and  that  if  the  girl 
continued  to  cling  to  her  theory,  as  he  feared 
she  would,  even  to  the  parting  with  her  for 
tune,  they  would  be  forced  to  accept  it,  or 
be  placed  in  the  hideous  position  of  publish 
ing  her  disgrace,  at  last  convinced  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  was  less  danger  of  her 
positive  imposition  being  discovered  than  of 
the  vague  and  impositive  truth.  The  real 
danger  lay  in  the  present  uncertainty  and 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      129 

mystery,  which  courted  surmise  and  invited 
discovery.  Paul,  himself,  was  willing  to 
take  all  the  responsibility,  and  at  last  ex 
tracted  from  the  colonel  a  promise  of  pas 
sive  assent.  The  only  revelation  he  feared 
was  from  the  interference  of  the  mother,  but 
Pendleton  was  strong  in  the  belief  that  she 
had  not  only  utterly  abandoned  the  girl  to 
the  care  of  her  guardians,  but  that  she  would 
never  rescind  her  resolution  to  disclaim  her 
relationship;  that  she  had  gone  into  self- 
exile  for  that  purpose  ;  and  that  if  she  had 
changed  her  mind,  he  would  be  the  first  to 
know  of  it.  On  this  day  they  had  parted. 
Meantime,  Paul  had  not  forgotten  another 
resolution  he  had  formed  on  his  first  visit  lo 
the  colonel,  and  had  actually  succeeded  in 
getting  legislative  relief  for  the  Golden  Gate 
Bank,  and  restoring  to  the  colonel  some  of 
his  private  property  that  had  been  in  the 
hands  of  a  receiver. 

This  had  been  the  background  of  Paul's 
meditation,  which  only  threw  into  stronger 
relief  the  face  and  figure  that  moved  before 
him  as  persistently  as  it  had  once  before  in 
the  twilight  of  his  room  at  Rosario.  There 
were  times  when  her  moonlit  face,  with  its 
faint,  strange  smile,  stood  out  before  him  as 


130   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

it  had  stood  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  half- 
darkened  drawing-rooom  that  night ;  as  he 
had  seen  it  —  he  believed  for  the  last  time  — 
framed  for  an  instant  in  the  parted  curtains 
of  the  doorway,  when  she  bade  him  "  Good 
night."  For  he  had  never  visited  her  since, 
and,  on  the  attainment  of  her  majority,  had 
delegated  his  passing  functions  to  Pendle- 
ton,  whom  he  had  induced  to  accompany  the 
Mayor  to  Santa  Clara  for  the  final  and  for 
mal  ceremony.  For  the  present  she  need  not 
know  how  much  she  had  been  indebted  to 
him  for  the  accomplishment  of  her  wishes. 

With  a  sigh  he  at  last  recalled  himself  to 
his  duty,  and,  drawing  the  pile  of  reports 
which  Shear  had  handed  him,  he  began  to 
examine  them.  These,  again,  bore  reference 
to  his  silent,  unobtrusive  inquiries.  In  his 
function  as  Chairman  of  Committee  he  had 
taken  advantage  of  a  kind  of  advanced  moral 
legislation  then  in  vogue,  and  particularly  in 
reference  to  a  certain  social  reform,  to  ex 
amine  statistics,  authorities,  and  witnesses, 
and  in  this  indirect  but  exhaustive  manner 
had  satisfied  himself  that  the  woman  "  Kate 
Howard,"  alias  "Beverly,"  alias  " Durfree," 
had  long  passed  beyond  the  ken  of  local  po 
lice  supervision,  and  that  in  the  record  there 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   131 

was  no  trace  or  indication  of  her  child.  He 
was  going  over  those  infelix  records  of  early 
transgressions  with  the  eye  of  trained  expe 
rience,  making  notes  from  time  to  time  for 
his  official  use,  and  yet  always  watchful  of 
his  secret  quest,  when  suddenly  he  stopped 
with  a  quickened  pulse.  In  the  record  of 
an  affray  at  a  gambling-house,  one  of  the 
parties  had  sought  refuge  in  the  rooms  of 
44  Kate  Howard,"  who  was  represented  be 
fore  the  magistrate  by  her  protector,  Juan 
de  Arguello.  The  date  given  was  contem 
porary  with  the  beginning  of  the  Trust,  but 
that  proved  nothing.  But  the  name  —  had 
it  any  significance,  or  was  it  a  grim  coinci 
dence,  that  spoke  even  more  terribly  and 
hopelessly  of  the  woman's  promiscuous 
frailty?  He  again  attacked  the  entire  re 
port,  but  there  was  no  other  record  of  her 
name.  Even  that  would  have  passed  any 
eye  less  eager  and  watchful  than  his  own. 

He  laid  the  reports  aside,  and  took  up  the 
proof-slip  again.  Was  there  any  man  living 
but  himself  and  Pendleton  who  would  con 
nect  these  two  statements  ?  That  her  rela 
tions  with  this  Arguello  were  brief  and  not 
generally  known  was  evident  from  Pendle- 
ton's  ignorance  of  the  fact.  But  he  must 


132      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

see  him  again,  and  at  once.  Perhaps  he 
might  have  acquired  some  information  from 
Yerba ;  the  young  girl  might  have  given  to 
his  age  that  confidence  she  had  withheld 
from  the  younger  man ;  indeed,  he  remem 
bered  with  a  flush  it  was  partly  in  that  hope 
he  had  induced  the  colonel  to  go  to  Santa 
Clara.  He  put  the  proof-slip  in  his  pocket 
and  stepped  to  the  door  of  the  next  room. 

"  You  need  not  write  that  letter  to  Slate, 
Tony.  I  will  see  him  myself.  I  am  going 
to  San  Francisco  to-night." 

"  And  do  you  want  anything  copied  from 
the  reports,  sir  ?  " 

Paul  quickly  swept  them  from  the  table 
into  his  drawer,  and  locked  it.  "  Not  now, 
thank  you.  I  '11  finish  my  notes  later." 

The  next  morning  Paul  was  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  and  had  again  crossed  the  portals 
of  the  Golden  Gate  Hotel.  He  had  been 
already  told  that  the  doom  of  that  palatial 
edifice  was  sealed  by  the  laying  of  the  corner 
stone  of  a  new  erection  in  the  next  square 
that  should  utterly  eclipse  it ;  he  even  fan 
cied  that  it  had  already  lost  its  freshness,  and 
its  meretricious  glitter  had  been  tarnished. 
But  when  he  had  ordered  his  breakfast  he 
made  his  way  to  the  public  parlor,  happily 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   133 

deserted  at  that  early  hour.  It  was  here 
that  he  had  first  seen  her.  She  was  stand 
ing  there,  by  that  mirror,  when  their  eyes 
first  met  in  a  sudden  instinctive  sympathy. 
She  herself  had  remembered  and  confessed 
it.  He  recalled  the  pleased  yet  conscious, 
girlish  superiority  with  which  she  had  re 
ceived  the  adulation  of  her  friends ;  his 
memory  of  her  was  broad  enough  now  even 
to  identify  Milly,  as  it  repeopled  the  vacant 
and  silent  room. 

An  hour  later  he  was  making  his  way  to 
Colonel  Pendleton's  lodgings,  and  half  ex 
pecting  to  find  the  St.  Charles  Hotel  itself 
transformed  by  the  eager  spirit  of  improve 
ment.  But  it  was  still  there  in  all  its  bar 
baric  and  provincial  incongruity.  Public 
opinion  had  evidently  recognized  that  noth 
ing  save  the  absolute  razing  of  its  warped 
and  flimsy  walls  could  effect  a  change,  and 
waited  for  it  to  collapse  suddenly  like  the 
house  of  cards  it  resembled.  Paul  wondered 
for  a  moment  if  it  were  not  ominous  of  its 
lodgers'  hopeless  inability  to  accept  changed 
conditions,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of 
doubt  that  he  even  now  ascended  the  creak 
ing  staircase.  But  it  was  instantly  dissipated 
on  the  threshold  of  the  colonel's  sitting-room 


134      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

by  the  appearance  of  George  and  his  recep 
tion  of  his  master's  guest. 

The  grizzled  negro  was  arrayed  in  a  sur 
prisingly  new  suit  of  blue  cloth  with  a  por 
tentous  white  waistcoat  and  an  enormous 
crumpled  white  cravat,  that  gave  him  the 
appearance  of  suffering  from  a  glandular 
swelling.  His  manner  had,  it  seemed  to 
Paul,  advanced  in  exaggeration  with  his 
clothes.  Dusting  a  chair  and  offering  it  to 
the  visitor,  he  remained  gracefully  posed  with 
his  hand  on  the  back  of  another. 

"  Yo'  finds  us  heah  yet,  Marse  Hathaway," 
he  began,  elegantly  toying  with  an  enormous 
silver  watch-chain,  "fo*  de  Kernel  he  don* 
bin  find  contagious  apartments  dat  at  all 
approximate,  and  he  don'  build,  for  his 
mind 's  not  dat  settled  dat  he  ain't  goin*  to 
trabbel.  De  place  is  low  down,  sah,  and  de 
f o'ks  is  low  down,  and  dah  's  a  heap  o*  white 
trash  dat  has  congested  under  de  roof  ob  de 
hotel  since  we  came.  But  we  uses  it  tem- 
per'ly,  sah,  fo'  de  present,  and  in  a  dissolu- 
tory  fashion." 

It  struck  Paul  that  the  contiguity  of  a 
certain  barber's  shop  and  its  dangerous  rem 
iniscences  had  something  to  do  with  George's 
lofty  depreciation  of  his  surroundings,  and 
he  could  not  help  saying :  — 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   135 

"  Then  you  don't  find  it  necessary  to  have 
it  convenient  to  the  barber's  shop  any  more? 
I  am  glad  of  that,  George." 

The  shot  told.  The  unfortunate  George, 
after  an  endeavor  to  collect  himself  by  alter 
ing  his  pose  two  or  three  times  in  rapid  suc 
cession,  finally  collapsed,  and,  with  an  air  of 
mingled  pain  and  dignity,  but  without  losing 
his  ceremonious  politeness  or  unique  vocab 
ulary,  said  :  — 

"  Yo'  got  me  dah,  sah  !  Yo'  got  me  dah ! 
De  infirmities  o'  human  natcheh,  sah,  is  de 
common  p'operty  ob  man,  and  a  gemplum 
like  yo'self,  sah,  a  legislate'  and  a  pow'ful 
speakah,  is  de  lass  one  to  hoi'  it  agin  de  in- 
dividal  pusson.  I  confess,  sah,  de  circum 
stances  was  propiskuous,  de  fees  fahly  good, 
and  de  risks  inferior.  De  gemplum  who 
kept  de  shop  was  an  artess  hisself,  and  had 
been  niggah  to  Kernel  Henderson  of  Tennes 
see,  and  de  gemplum  I  relieved  was  a  Mr. 
Johnson.  But  de  Kernel,  he  wouldn't  see 
it  in  dat  light,  sah,  and  if  yo'  don'  mind, 
sah"  — 

"  I  have  n't  the  slightest  idea  of  telling  the 
colonel  or  anybody,  George,"  said  Paul, 
smiling  ;  "  and  I  am  glad  to  find  on  your 
own  account  that  you  are  able  to  put  aside 
any  work  beyond  your  duty  here." 


136      A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  Thank  yo',  sah.  If  yo'  '11  let  me  intro 
duce  yo'  to  de  refreshment,  yo'  '11  find  it  all 
1-io-ht  now.  De  Glencoe  is  dah.  De  Kernel 

O 

will  be  here  soon,  but  he  would  be  pow'ful 
mo'tified,  sah,  if  yo'  did  n't  hab  something 
afo'  he  come."     He  opened  a  well-filled  side 
board  as  he  spoke.     It  was  the  first  evidence 
Paul  had  seen  of  the  colonel's  restored  for 
tunes.     He  would  willingly  have  contented 
himself  with  this  mere  outward  manifesta 
tion,  but  in  his  desire  to  soothe  the  ruffled 
dignity  of  the  old  man  he  consented  to  par 
take  of  a  small  glass  of  spirits.     George  at 
once    became    radiant   and   communicative. 
"  De  Kernel  bin  gone  to  Santa  Clara  to  see 
de  young  lady  dat  's  finished  her  edercation 
dah  —  de  Kernel's  only  ward,  sah.      She  's 
one  o'  dose  million-heiresses  and  highly  con 
nected,  sah,  wid  de  old  Mexican  Gobbermen, 
I  understand.     And  I  reckon  dey  's  bin  big 
goin's  on  doun  dar,  foh  de  Mayer  kem  his- 
self  fo'  de  Kernel.     Looks  like  des  might 
bin  a  proceshon,  sah.     Yo'  don'  know  of  a 
young  lady  bin  hab  a  title,  sah  ?     I  won't 
be  shuah,  his  Honah  de  Mayer  or  de  Kernel 
did  n't  say  someting  about  a  '  Donna.'  " 

"  Very  likely,  "  said  Paul,  turning  away 
with  a  faint  smile.     So  it  was  already  in  the 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.  137 

air!  Setting  aside  the  old  negro's  charac 
teristic  exaggeration,  there  had  already  been 
some  conversation  between  the  colonel  and 
the  Mayor,  which  George  had  vaguely  over 
heard.  He  might  be  too  late,  the  alternative 
might  be  no  longer  in  his  hands.  But  his 
discomposure  was  heightened  a  moment  later 
by  the  actual  apparition  of  the  returning 
Pendleton. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  tightly  buttoned  blue 
frock-coat,  which  fairly  accented  his  tall,  thin 
military  figure,  although  the  top  lappel  was 
thrown  far  enough  back  to  show  a  fine  ruffled 
cambric  shirt  and  checked  gingham  necktie, 
and  was  itself  adorned  with  a  white  rosebud 
in  the  button -hole.  Fawn -colored  trousers 
strapped  over  narrow  patent-leather  boots, 
and  a  tall  white  hat,  whose  broad  mourning- 
band  was  a  perpetual  memory  of  his  mother, 
who  had  died  in  his  boyhood,  completed  his 
festal  transformation.  Yet  his  erect  carriage, 
high  aquiline  nose,  and  long  gray  drooping 
moustache  lent  a  distinguishing  grace  to  this 
survival  of  a  bygone  fashion,  and  over-rode 
any  irreverent  comment.  Even  his  slight 
limp  seemed  to  give  a  peculiar  character  to 
his  massive  gold-headed  stick,  and  made  it  a 
part  of  his  formal  elegance. 


138      A  WARD   OF  TEE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

Handing  George  his  stick  and  a  military 
cape  he  carried  easily  over  his  left  arm,  he 
greeted  Paul  warmly,  yet  with  a  return  of 
his  old  dominant  manner. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Hathaway,  and  glad,  to 
see  the  boy  has  served  you  better  than  the 
last  time.  If  I  had  known  you  were  coming, 
I  would  have  tried  to  get  back  in  time  to 
have  breakfast  with  you.  But  your  friends 
at  '  Rosario  '  —  I  think  they  call  it ;  in  my 
time  it  was  owned  by  Colonel  Briones,  and 
he  called  it  '  The  Devil's  Little  Canon  '  — 
detained  me  with  some  d — d  civilities.  Let 's 
see  —  his  name  is  Woods,  is  n't  it  ?  Used  to 
sell  rum  to  runaway  sailors  on  Long  Wharf, 
and  take  stores  in  exchange?  Or  was  it 
Baker?  —  Judge  Baker?  I  forget  which. 
Well,  sir,  they  wished  to  be  remembered." 

It  struck  Paul,  perhaps  unreasonably, 
that  the  colonel's  indifference  and  digression 
were  both  a  little  assumed,  and  he  asked 
abruptly,  — 

"  And  you  fulfilled  your  mission  ?  " 

"  I  made  the  formal  transfer,  with  the 
Mayor,  of  the  property  to  Miss  Arguello." 

"  To  Miss  Arguello" ?  " 

"  To  the  Dona  Maria  Concepcion  de  Ar 
guello  de  la  Yerba  Buena  —  to  speak  pre- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      139 

cisely,  "  said  the  colonel,  slowly.  "  George, 
you  can  take  that  hat  to  that  blank  hatter — 
what's  his  blanked  name?  I  read  it  only 
yesterday  in  a  list  of  the  prominent  citizens 
here  —  and  tell  him,  with  my  compliments, 
that  I  want  a  gentleman's  mourning  band 
around  my  hat,  and  not  a  child's  shoelace. 
It  may  be  his  idea  of  the  value  of  his  own 
parents  —  if  he  ever  had  any  —  but  I  don't 
care  for  him  to  appraise  mine.  Go !  " 

As  the  door  closed  upon  George,  Paul 
turned  to  the  colonel  — 

"  Then  am  I  to  understand  that  you  have 
agreed  to  her  story  ?  " 

The  colonel  rose,  picked  up  the  decanter, 
poured  out  a  glass  of  whiskey,  and  holding  it 
in  his  hand,  said  :  — 

"  My  dear  Hathaway,  let  us  understand 
each  other.  As  a  gentleman,  I  have  made  a 
point  through  life'never  to  question  the  age, 
name,  or  family  of  any  lady  of  my  acquaint 
ance.  Miss  Yerba  Buena  came  of  age  yes 
terday,  and,  as  she  is  no  longer  my  ward, 
she  is  certainly  entitled  to  the  consideration 
I  have  just  mentioned.  If  she,  therefore, 
chooses  to  tack  to  her  name  the  whole  Span 
ish  directory,  I  don't  see  why  I  should  n't 
accept  it." 


140     A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

Characteristic  as  this  speech  appeared  to 
be  of  the  colonel's  ordinary  manner,  it 
struck  Paul  as  being  only  an  imitation  of  his 
usual  frank  independence,  and  made  him 
uneasily  conscious  of  some  vague  desertion 
on  Pendleton's  part.  He  fixed  his  bright 
eyes  on  his  host,  who  was  ostentatiously  sip 
ping  his  liquor,  and  said :  — 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  have  heard 
nothing  more  from  Miss  Yerba,  either  for  or 
against  her  story?  That  you  still  do  not 
know  whether  she  has  deceived  herself,  has 
been  deceived  by  others,  or  is  deceiving  us?" 

"After  what  I  have  just  told  you,  Mr. 
Hathaway,"  said  the  colonel,  with  an  in 
creased  exaggeration  of  manner  which  Paul 
thought  must  be  apparent  even  to  himself, 
"•  I  should  have  but  one  way  of  dealing  with 
questions  of  that  kind  from  anybody  but 
yourself." 

This  culminating  extravagance  —  taken  in 
connection  with  Pendleton's  passing  doubts 
—  actually  forced  a  laugh  from  Paul  in  spite 
of  his  bitterness. 

Colonel  Pendleton's  face  flushed  quickly. 
Like  most  positive  one-idea'd  men,  he  was 
restricted  from  any  possible  humorous  com 
bination,  and  only  felt  a  mysterious  sense  of 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.    141 

being  detected  in  some  weakness.  He  put 
down  his  glass. 

"  Mr.  Hathaway,"  he  began,  with  a  slight 
vibration  in  his  usual  dominant  accents, "  you 
have  lately  put  me  under  a  sense  of  personal 
obligation  for  a  favor  which  I  felt  I  could 
accept  without  derogation  from  a  younger 
man,  because  it  seemed  to  be  one  not  only  of 
youthful  generosity  but  of  justice,  and  was 
not  unworthy  the  exalted  ambition  of  a  young 
man  like  yourself  or  the  simple  deserts  of  an 
old  man  such  as  I  am.  I  accepted  it,  sir, 
the  more  readily,  because  it  was  entirely  un 
solicited  by  me,  and  seemed  to  be  the  spon 
taneous  offering  of  your  own  heart.  If  I 
have  presumed  upon  it  to  express  myself 
freely  on  other  matters  in  a  way  that  only 
excites  your  ridicule,  I  can  but  offer  you  an 
apology,  sir.  If  I  have  accepted  a  favor  I 
can  neither  renounce  nor  return,  I  must  take 
the  consequences  to  myself,  and  even  beg 
you,  sir,  to  put  up  with  them." 

Kemorseful  as  Paul  felt,  there  was  a  sin 
gular  resemblance  between  the  previous  re 
proachful  pose  of  George  and  this  present 
attitude  of  his  master,  as  if  the  mere  propin 
quity  of  personal  sacrifice  had  made  them 
alike,  that  struck  him  with  a  mingled  pathos 


142      A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

and  ludicrousness.  But  he  said  warmly, 
"  It  is  I  who  must  apologize,  my  dear  colo 
nel.  I  am  not  laughing  at  your  conclusions, 
but  at  this  singular  coincidence  with  a  dis 
covery  I  have  made.'* 

"  As  how,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  find  in  the  report  of  the  Chief  of  the 
Police  for  the  year  1850  that  Kate  Howard 
was  under  the  protection  of  a  man  named 
Arguello." 

The  colonel's  exaggeration  instantly  left 
him.  He  stared  blankly  at  Paul.  "And 
you  call  this  a  laughing  matter,  sir?"  he 
said  sternly,  but  in  his  more  natural  manner. 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  I  don't  think,  if  you 
will  allow  me  to  say  so,  my  dear  colonel, 
that  you  have  been  treating  the  whole  affair 
very  seriously.  I  left  you  two  months  ago 
utterly  opposed  to  views  which  you  are  now 
treating  as  of  no  importance.  And  yet  you 
wish  me  to  believe  "that  nothing  has  hap 
pened,  and  that  you  have  no  further  infor 
mation  than  you  had  then.  That  this  is  so, 
and  that  you  are  really  no  nearer  the  facts, 
I  am  willing  to  believe  from  your  ignorance 
of  what  I  have  just  told  you,  and  your  con 
cern  at  it.  But  that  you  have  not  been  in 
fluenced  in  your  judgment  of  what  you  do 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     143 

know,  I  cannot  believe  ?  "  He  drew  nearer 
Pendleton,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm. 
"  I  beg  you  to  be  frank  with  me,  for  the 
sake  of  the  person  whose  interests  I  see  you 
have  at  heart.  In  what  way  will  the  dis 
covery  I  have  just  made  affect  them  ?  You 
are  not  so  far  prejudiced  as  to  be  blind  to 
the  fact  that  it  may  be  dangerous  because  it 
seems  corroborative." 

Pendleton  coughed,  rose,  took  his  stick, 
and  limped  up  and  down  the  room,  finally 
dropping  into  an  armchair  by  the  window, 
with  his  cane  between  his  knees,  and  the 
drooping  gray  silken  threads  of  his  long 
moustache  curled  nervously  between  his 
fingers. 

"  Mr.  Hathaway,  I  will  be  frank  with  you. 
I  know  nothing  of  this  blank  affair  —  blank 
it  all !  —  but  what  I  've  told  you.  Your  dis 
covery  may  be  a  coincidence,  nothing  more. 
But  I  have  been  influenced,  sir,  —  influenced 
by  one  of  the  most  perfect  goddess-like  — 
yes,  sir ;  one  of  the  most  simple  girlish  crea 
tures  that  God  ever  sent  upon  earth.  A 
woman  that  I  should  be  proud  to  claim  as 
my  daughter,  a  woman  that  would  always 
be  the  superior  of  any  man  who  dare  aspire 
to  be  her  husband  !  A  young  lady  as  peer- 


144     A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

less  in  her  beauty  as  she  is  in  her  accom 
plishments,  and  whose  equal  don't  walk  this 
planet !  I  know,  sir,  you  don't  follow  me ; 
I  know,  Mr.  Hathaway,  your  Puritan  pre 
judices  ;  your  Church  proclivities ;  your 
worldly  sense  of  propriety ;  and,  above  all, 
sir,  the  blanked  hypocritical  Pharisaic  doc 
trines  of  your  party  —  I  mean  no  offense  to 
yow,  sir,  personally  —  blind  you  to  that  girl's 
perfections.  She,  poor  child,  herself  has 
seen  it  and  felt  it ;  but  never,  in  her  blame 
less  innocence  and  purity,  suspecting  the 
cause.  '  There  is,'  she  said  to  me  last  night, 
confidentially,  '  something  strangely  antag 
onistic  and  repellent  in  our  natures,  some 
undefined  and  nameless  barrier  between  our 
ever  understanding  each  other.'  You  com 
prehend,  Mr.  Hathaway,  she  does  full  justice 
to  your  intentions  and  your  unquestioned 
abilities.  '  I  am  not  blind,'  she  said,  '  to  Mr. 
Hathaway's  gifts,  and  it  is  very  possible 
the  fault  lies  with  me.'  Her  very  words, 
sir." 

"  Then  you  believe  she  is  perfectly  igno 
rant  of  her  real  mother  ?  "  asked  Paul,  with 
a  steady  voice,  but  a  whitening  face. 

"  As  an  unborn  child,  "  said  the  colonel, 
emphatically.  "  The  snow  on  the  Sierras  is 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     145 

not  more  spotlessly  pure  of  any  trace  or  con 
tamination  of  the  mud  of  the  mining  ditches, 
than  she  of  her  mother  and  her  past.  The 
knowledge  of  it,  the  mere  breath  of  suspicion 
of  it,  in  her  presence  would  be  a  profanation, 
sir !  Look  at  her  eye  —  open  as  the  sky 
and  as  clear ;  look  at  her  face  and  figure  — 
as  clean,  sir,  as  a  Blue-Grass  thoroughbred ! 
Look  at  the  way  she  carries  herself,  whether 
in  those  white  frillings  of  her  simple  school- 
gown,  or  that  black  evening  dress  that  makes 
her  look  like  a  princess !  And,  blank  me,  if 
she  is  n't  one !  There  's  no  poor  stock  there 
—  no  white  trash  —  no  mixed  blood,  sir. 
Blank  it  all,  sir,  if  it  comes  to  that  —  the 
Arguellos  —  if  there 's  a  hound  of  them  liv 
ing  —  might  go  down  on  their  knees  to  have 
their  name  borne  by  such  a  creature !  By 
the  Eternal,  sir,  if  one  of  them  dared  to  cross 
her  path  with  a  word  that  wasn't  abject  — 
yes,  sir,  abject,  I  'd  wipe  his  dust  off  the 
earth  and  send  it  back  to  his  ancestors  be 
fore  he  knew  where  he  was,  or  my  name  is  n't 
Harry  Pendleton !  " 

Hopeless  and  inconsistent  as  all  this  was, 
it  was  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  the  colonel, 
his  dark  stern  face  illuminated  with  a  zeal 
ot's  enthusiasm,  his  eyes  on  fire,  the  ends  of 


146      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

his  gray  moustache  curling  around  his  set 
jaw,  his  head  thrown  back,  his  legs  astride, 
and  his  gold-headed  stick  held  in  the  hollow 
of  his  elbow,  like  a  lance  at  rest !  Paul  saw 
it,  and  knew  that  this  Quixotic  transforma 
tion  was  part  of  her  triumph,  and  yet  had  a 
miserable  consciousness  that  the  charms  of 
this  Dulcinea  del  Toboso  had  scarcely  been 
exaggerated.  He  turned  his  eyes  away,  and 
said  quietly,  — 

"Then  you  don't  think  this  coincidence 
will  ever  awaken  any  suspicion  in  regard  to 
her  real  mother  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  sir  —  not  in  the  least," 
said  the  colonel,  yet,  perhaps,  with  more  dog- 
gedness  than  conviction  of  accent.  "  No 
body  but  yourself  would  ever  notice  that 
police  report,  and  the  connection  of  that 
woman's  name  with  his  was  not  notorious, 
or  I  should  have  known  it." 

"  And  you  believe,"  continued  Paul  hope 
lessly,  "that  Miss  Yerba's  selection  of  the 
name  was  purely  accidental?" 

"  Purely  —  a  school-girl's  fancy*  Fancy, 
did  I  say?  No,  sir;  by  Jove,  an  inspira 
tion!" 

"And,"  continued  Paul,  almost  mechan 
ically,  "you  do  not  think  it  may  be  some 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     147 

insidious  suggestion  of  an  enemy  who  knew 
of  this  transient  relation  that  no  one  sus 
pected?" 

To  his  final  amazement  Pendleton's  brow 
cleared !  "  An  enemy  ?  Gad !  you  may  be 
right.  I  '11  look  into  it ;  and,  if  that  is  the 
case,  which  I  scarcely  dare  hope  for,  Mr. 
Hathaway,  you  can  safely  leave  him  to  me.'* 

He  looked  so  supremely  confident  in  his 
fatuous  heroism  that  Paul  could  say  no 
more.  He  rose  and,  with  a  faint  smile 
upon  his  pale  face,  held  out  his  hand.  "  I 
think  that  is  all  I  have  to  say.  When  you 
see  Miss  Yerba  again,  —  as  you  will,  no 
doubt,  —  you  may  tell  her  that  I  am  con 
scious  of  no  misunderstanding  on  my  part, 
except,  perhaps,  as  to  the  best  way  I  could 
serve  her,  and  that,  but  for  what  she  has 
told  you,  I  should  certainly  have  carried 
away  no  remembrance  of  any  misunder 
standing  of  hers." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  colonel,  with  cheer 
ful  philosophy,  "  I  will  carry  your  message 
with  pleasure.  You  understand  how  it  is, 
Mr.  Hathaway.  There  is  no  accounting  for 
these  instincts  —  we  can  only  accept  them  as 
they  are.  But  I  believe  that  your  inten 
tions,  sir,  were  strictly  according  to  what 


148   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

you  conceived  to  be  your  duty.  You  won't 
take  something  before  you  go  ?  Well,  then 
—  good-by." 

Two  weeks  later  Paul  found  among  his 
morning  letters  an  envelope  addressed  in 
Colonel  Pendleton's  boyish  scrawling  hand. 
He  opened  it  with  an  eagerness  that  no 
studied  self-control  nor  rigid  preoccupation 
of  his  duties  had  yet  been  able  to  subdue, 
and  glanced  hurriedly  at  its  contents :  — 

DEAR  SIR,  —  As  I  am  on  the  point  of 
sailing  to  Europe  to-morrow  to  escort  Miss 
Arguello  and  Miss  Woods  on  an  extended 
visit  to  England  and  the  Continent,  I  am 
desirous  of  informing  you  that  I  have  thus 
far  been  unable  to  find  any  foundation  for 
the  suggestions  thrown  out  by  you  in  our 
last  interview.  Miss  Arguello's  Spanish 
acquaintances  have  been  very  select,  and 
limited  to  a  few  school  friends  and  Don 
Caesar  and  Dona  Anna  Briones,  tried  friends, 
who  are  also  fellow-passengers  with  us  to 
Europe.  Miss  Arguello  suggests  that  some 
political  difference  between  you  and  Don 
Caesar,  which  occurred  during  your  visit  to 
Rosario  three  months  ago,  may  have,  per 
haps,  given  rise  to  your  supposition.  She 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   149 

joins  me  in  best  wishes  for  your  public 
career,  which  even  in  the  distraction  of  for 
eign  travel  and  the  obligations  of  her  posi 
tion  she  will  follow  from  time  to  time  with 
the  greatest  interest. 
Very  respectfully  yours, 

HARRY  PENDLETON. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

IT  was  on  the  3d  of  August,  1863,  that 
Paul  Hathaway  resigned  himself  and  his 
luggage  to  the  care  of  the  gold-laced,  osten 
sible  porter  of  the  Strudle  Bad  Hof,  not 
without  some  uncertainty,  in  a  land  of  uni 
forms,  whether  he  would  be  eventually  con 
ducted  to  the  barracks,  the  police  office,  or 
the  Conservatoire.  He  was  relieved  when 
the  omnibus  drove  into  the  courtyard  of  the 
Bad  Hof,  and  the  gold-chained  chamberlain, 
flanked  by  two  green  tubs  of  oleanders,  re 
ceived  him  with  a  gravity  calculated  to 
check  any  preconceived  idea  he  might  have 
that  traveling  was  a  trifling  affair,  or  that 
an  arrival  at  the  Bad  Hof  was  not  of  seri 
ous  moment.  His  letters  had  not  yet  ar 
rived,  for  he  had,  in  a  fit  of  restlessness, 
shortened  his  route,  and  he  strolled  listlessly 
into  the  reading-room.  Two  or  three  Eng 
lish  guests  were  evidently  occupied  in  emi 
nently  respectable  reading  and  writing ;  two 
were  sitting  by  the  window  engaged  in  sub- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      151 

dued  but  profitable  conversation ;   and  two 
Americans   from   Boston   were   contentedly 
imitating  them   on   the   other   side   of   the 
room.     A  decent  restraint,  as  of  people  who 
were  not  for  a  moment  to  be  led  into  any 
foreign  idea  of  social  gayety  at  a  watering- 
place,  was   visible   everywhere.     A   specta 
cled  Prussian  officer  in  full  uniform  passed 
along  the  hall,  halted  for  a  moment  at  the 
doorway  as  if  contemplating  an  armed  inva 
sion,  thought  better  of  it,  and  took  his  uni 
form  away  into   the   sunlight  of   the  open 
square,  where  it  was  joined  by  other  uni 
forms,  and  became  by  contrast  a  miracle  of 
unbraced  levity.     Paul  stood  the  Polar  si 
lence  for  a  few  moments,  until  one  of  the 
readers  arose  and,  taking  his  book  —  a  Mur- 
ray  —  in  his  hand,  walked  slowly  across  the 
room  to  a  companion,  mutely  pointed  to  a 
passage  in  the  book,  remained  silent  until 
the  other  had  dumbly  perused  it,  and  then 
walked    back    again    to    his    seat,    having 
achieved  the  incident  without  a  word.     At 
which  Paul,  convinced  of  his  own  incongru 
ity,  softly  withdrew  with  his  hat  in  his  hand, 
and  his  eyes  fixed  devotionally  upon  it. 

It  was  good  after   that  to  get   into  the 
slanting     sunlight    and    checkered    linden 


152      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

shadows  of  the  Allee  ;  to  see  even  a  tightly 
jacketed  cavalryman  naturally  walking  with 
Cllirchen  and  her  two  round-faced  and  drab- 
haired  young  charges ;  to  watch  the  return 
ing  invalid  procession,  very  real  and  very 
human,  each  individual  intensely  involved 
in  the  atmosphere  of  his  own  symptoms  ; 
and  very  good  after  that  to  turn  into  the 
Thiergarten,  where  the  animals,  were,  how 
ever,  chiefly  of  his  own  species,  and  shame 
lessly  and  openly  amusing  themselves.  It 
was  pleasant  to  contrast  it  with  his  first 
visit  to  the  place  three  months  before,  and 
correct  his  crude  impressions.  And  it  was 
still  more  pleasant  suddenly  to  recognize, 
under  the  round  flat  cap  of  a  general  officer, 
a  former  traveler  who  was  fond  of  talking 
with  him  about  America  with  an  intelli 
gence  and  understanding  of  it  that  Paul 
had  often  missed  among  his  own  traveled 
countrymen.  It  was  pleasant  to  hear  his 
unaffected  and  simple  greeting,  to  renew 
their  old  acquaintance,  and  to  saunter  back 
to  the  hotel  together  through  the  long  twi 
light. 

They  were  only  a  few  squares  from  the 
hotel,  when  Paul's  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  curiosity  and  delight  of  two  or  three 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      153 

children  before  him,  who  appeared  to  be  fol 
lowing  a  quaint-looking  figure  that  was  evi 
dently  not  unfamiliar  to  them.  It  appeared 
to  be  a  servant  in  a  striking  livery  of  green 
with  yellow  facings  and  crested  silver  but 
tons,  but  still  more  remarkable  for  the  inde 
scribable  mingling  of  jaunty  ease  and  con 
scious  dignity  with  which  he  carried  off  his 
finery.  There  was  something  so  singular 
and  yet  so  vaguely  reminiscent  in  his  pecu 
liar  walk  and  the  exaggerated  swing  of  his 
light  bamboo  cane  that  Paul  could  not  only 
understand  the  childish  wonder  of  the 
passers-by,  who  turned  to  look  after  him, 
but  was  stirred  with  a  deeper  curiosity.  He 
quickened  his  pace,  but  was  unable  to  dis 
tinguish  anything  of  the  face  or  features  of 
the  stranger,  except  that  his  hair  under  his 
cocked  hat  appeared  to  be  tightly  curled 
and  powdered.  Paul's  companion,  who  was 
amused  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  Ameri 
can's  national  curiosity,  had  seen  the  figure 
before.  "A  servant  in  the  suite  of  some 
Eastern  Altesse  visiting  the  baths.  You 
will  see  stranger  things,  my  friend,  in  the 
Strudle  Bad.  Par  example^  your  own 
countrymen,  too ;  the  one  who  has  enriched 
himself  by  that  pork  of  Chicago,  or  that 


154     A   WARD   OF  THE    GOLDEN  GATE. 

soap,  or  this  candle,  in  a  carriage  with  the 
crest  of  the  title  he  has  bought  in  Italy  with 
his  dollars,  and  his  beautiful  daughters,  who 
are  seeking  more  titles  with  possible  matri 
monial  contingencies." 

After  an  early  dinner,  Paul  found  his  way 
to  the  little  theatre.  He  had  already  been 
struck  by  a  highly  colored  poster  near  the 
Balmhof,  purporting  that  a  distinguished 
German  company  would  give  a  representa 
tion  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and  certain 
peculiarities  in  the  pictorial  advertisement 
of  the  tableaux  gave  promise  of  some  enter 
tainment.  He  found  the  theatre  fairly  full; 
there  was  the  usual  contingent  of  abonnirte 
officers,  a  fair  sprinkling  of  English  and 
German  travelers,  but  apparently  none  of 
his  own  countrymen.  He  had  no  time  to 
examine  the  house  more  closely,  for  the 
play,  commencing  with  simple  punctuality, 
not  only  far  exceeded  the  promise  of  the 
posters,  but  of  any  previous  performance  of 
the  play  he  had  witnessed.  Transported  at 
once  to  a  gorgeous  tropical  region  —  the 
slave  States  of  America  —  resplendent  with 
the  fruits  and  palms  of  Mauritius,  and  peo 
pled  exclusively  with  Paul  and  Virginia's 
companions  in  striped  cotton,  Hathaway 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      155 

managed  to  keep  a  composed  face,  until  the 
arrival  of  the  good  Southern  planter  St. 
Clair  as  one  of  the  earlier  portraits  of  Goe 
the,  in  top  boots,  light  kerseymere  breeches, 
redingote  and  loose  Byron  collar,  compelled 
him  to  shrink  into  the  upper  corner  of  the 
box  with  his  handkerchief  to  his  face. 
Luckily,  the  action  passed  as  the  natural 
effect  upon  a  highly  sympathetic  nature  of 
religious  interviews  between  a  round-faced 
flaxen-haired  "Kleine  Eva"  and  "Onkeel 
Tome,"  occasionally  assisted  by  a  Dissent 
ing  clergyman  in  Geneva  bands ;  of  exces 
sive  brutality  with  a  cattle  whip  by  a  Zamiel- 
like  Legree ;  of  the  sufferings  of  a  runaway 
negro  Zimmermadclien  with  a  child  three 
shades  lighter  than  herself ;  and  of  a  painted 
canvas  "  man-hunt,"  where  apparently  four 
well  known  German  composers  on  horse 
back,  with  flowing  hair,  top  boots,  and  a 
Cor  de  chasse,  were  pursuing,  with  the  aid 
of  a  pack  of  fox  hounds,  "the  much  too 
deeply  abused  and  yet  spiritually  elevated 
Onkeel  Tome."  Paul  did  not  wait  for  the 
final  apotheosis  of  "  der  Kleine  Eva,"  but, 
in  the  silence  of  a  hushed  audience,  made 
his  way  into  the  corridor  and  down  the  stair 
case.  He  was  passing  an  open  door  marked 


156      A  WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  Direction,"  when  his  attention  was  sharply 
attracted  by  a  small  gathering  around  it 
and  the  sounds  of  indignant  declamation. 
It  was  the  voice  of  a  countryman  —  more 
than  that,  it  was  a  familiar  voice,  that  he 
had  not  heard  for  three  years  —  the  voice  of 
Colonel  Harry  Pendleton ! 

"Tell  him,"  said  Pendleton,  in  scathing 
tones,  to  some  invisible  interpreter,  —  "  tell, 
him,  sir,  that  a  more  infamous  caricature  of 
the  blankest  caricature  that  ever  maligned 
a  free  people,  sir,  I  never  before  had  the 
honor  of  witnessing.  Tell  him  that  7,  sir 

—  I,    Harry    Pendleton,    of    Kentucky,    a 
Southerner,   sir  —  an  old    slaveholder,   sir, 
declare  it  to  be  a  tissue  of  falsehoods  unwor 
thy  the  credence  of  a  Christian  civilization 
like  this  —  unworthy  the   attention  of   the 
distinguished  ladies  and  gentlemen  that  are 
gathered  here  to-night.      Tell  him,  sir,  he 
has  been  imposed  upon.     Tell  him  I  am  re 
sponsible —  give  him  my  card  and  address 

—  personally  responsible   for  what   I   say. 
If  he  wants   proofs  —  blank  it  all!  —  tell 
him  you  yourself  have  been  a  slave  —  my 
slave,  sir!     Take  off    your  hat,  sir!     Ask 
him  to  look  at  you  —  ask  him  if  he  thinks 
you  ever  looked  or  could  look  like  that  lop- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      157 

eared,  psalm-singing,  white-headed  hypocrite 
on  the  stage  !  Ask  him,  sir,  if  he  thinks 
that  blank  ringmaster  they  call  St.  Clair 
looks  like  Me!" 

At  this  astounding  exordium  Paul  eagerly 
pressed  forward  and  entered  the  bureau. 
There  certainly  was  Colonel  Pendleton,  in 
spotless  evening  dress ;  erect,  flashing,  and 
indignant ;  his  aquiline  nose  lifted  like  a 
hawk's  beak  over  his  quarry,  his  iron-gray 
moustache,  now  white  and  waxed,  parted 
like  a  swallow's  tail  over  his  handsome 
mouth,  and  between  him  and  the  astounded 
"  Direction "  stood  the  apparition  of  the 
Allee  —  George  !  There  was  no  mistaking 
him  now.  What  Paul  had  thought  was  a 
curled  wig  or  powder  was  the  old  negro's 
own  white  knotted  wool,  and  the  astounding 
livery  he  wore  was  carried  off  as  no  one  but 
George  could  carry  it. 

But  he  was  still  more  amazed  when  the 
old  servant,  in  a  German  as  exaggerated,  as 
incoherent,  but  still  as  fluent  and  persuasive 
as  his  own  native  speech,  began  an  extrava 
gant  but  perfectly  dignified  and  diplomatic 
translation  of  his  master's  protests.  Where 
and  when,  by  what  instinct,  he  had  assimi 
lated  and  made  his  own  the  grotesque  inver- 


158      A  WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

sions  and  ponderous  sentimentalities  of  Teu 
tonic  phrasing,  Paul  could  not  guess ;  but  it 
was  with  breathless  wonder  that  he  presently 
became  aware  that,  so  perfect  and  convin 
cing  was  the  old  man's  style  and  deportment, 
not  only  the  simple  officials  but  even  the 
bystanders  were  profoundly  impressed  by 
this  farrago  of  absurdity.  A  happy  word 
here  and  there,  the  full  title  and  rank  given, 
even  with  a  slight  exaggeration,  to  each  in 
dividual,  brought  a  deep  and  guttural  "  So! " 
from  lips  that  would  have  found  it  difficult 
to  repeat  a  line  of  his  ceremonious  idiocy. 

In  their  preoccupation  neither  the  colonel 
nor  George  had  perceived  Paul's  entrance, 
but,  as  the  old  servant  turned  with  magnifi 
cent  courtesy  towards  the  bystanders,  his 
eyes  fell  upon  Paul.  A  Hash  of  surprise, 
triumph,  and  satisfaction  lit  up  his  rolling 
eyes.  Paul  instantly  knew  that  he  not  only 
recognized  him,  but  that  he  had  already 
heard  of  and  thoroughly  appreciated  a  cer 
tain  distinguished  position  that  Paul  had 
lately  held,  and  was  quick  to  apply  it.  In 
tensifying  for  a  moment  the  grandiloquence 
of  his  manner,  he  called  upon  his  master's 
most  distinguished  and  happily  arrived  old 
friend,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  Governor  of 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      159 

the  Golden  Californias,  to  corroborate  his 
statement.  Colonel  Pendleton  started,  and 
grasped  Paul's  hand  warmly.  Paul  turned 
to  the  already  half-mollified  Director  with 
the  diplomatic  suggestion  that  the  vivid  and 
realistic  acting  of  the  admirable  company 
which  he  himself  had  witnessed  had  perhaps 
unduly  excited  his  old  friend,  even  as  it  had 
undoubtedly  thrown  into  greater  relief  the 
usual  exaggerations  of  dramatic  representa 
tion,  and  the  incident  terminated  with  a 
profusion  of  apologies,  and  the  most  cordial 
expressions  of  international  good  feeling  on 
both  sides. 

Yet,  as  they  turned  away  from  the  the 
atre  together,  Paul  could  not  help  noticing 
that,  although  the  colonel's  first  greeting 
had  been  spontaneous  and  unaffected,  it  was 
succeeded  by  an  uneasy  reserve.  Paul  made 
no  attempt  to  break  it,  and  confined  him 
self  to  a  few  general  inquiries,  ending  by 
inviting  the  colonel  to  sup  with  him  at  the 
hotel.  Pendleton  hesitated.  "  At  any  other 
time,  Mr.  Hathaway,  I  should  have  insisted 
upon  you,  as  the  stranger,  supping  with  me ; 
but  since  the  absence  of  —  of  —  the  rest  of 
my  party  —  1  have  given  up  my  suite  of 
rooms  at  the  Bad  Hof,  and  have  taken 


160      A   WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

smaller  lodgings  for  myself  and  the  boy  at 
the  Schwartze  Adler.  Miss  Woods  and 
Miss  Arguello  have  accepted  an  invitation 
to  spend  a  few  days  at  the  villa  of  the  Baron 
and  Baroness  von  Schilprecht  —  an  hour  or 
two  from  here."  He  lingered  over  the  title 
with  an  odd  mingling  of  impressiveness  and 
inquiry,  and  glanced  at  Paul.  But  Hatha 
way  exhibiting  neither  emotion  nor  surprise 
at  the  mention  of  Yerba's  name  or  the  title 
of  her  host,  he  continued,  "  Miss  Arguello, 
I  suppose  you  know,  is  immensely  admired  : 
she  has  been,  sir,  the  acknowledged  belle 
of  Strudle  Bad." 

"  I  can  readily  believe  it,"  said  Paul, 
simply. 

"  And  has  taken  the  position  —  the  posi 
tion,  sir,  to  which  she  is  entitled." 

Without  appearing  to  notice  the  slight 
challenge  in  Pendleton's  tone,  Paul  returned, 
"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  The  more  partic 
ularly  as,  I  believe,  the  Germans  are  great 
sticklers  for  position  and  pedigree." 

"You  are  right,  sir  —  quite  right:  they 
are,"  said  the  colonel,  proudly  —  "  although  " 

—  with  a  certain  premeditated  deliberation 

—  "I  have  been  credibly  informed  that  the 
King  can,  in  certain  cases,  if  he   chooses, 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      161 

supply  —  yes,  sir  —  supply  a  favored  person 
with  ancestors  —  yes,  sir,  with  ancestors  !  " 

Paul  cast  a  quick  glance  at  his  com 
panion. 

"Yes,  sir  —  that  is,  we  will  say,  in  the 
case  of  a  lady  of  inferior  rank  —  or  even 
birth,  the  King  of  these  parts  can,  on  her 
marriage  with  a  nobleman  —  blank  it  all !  — 
ennoble  her  father  and  mother,  and  their 
fathers  and  mothers,  though  they've  been 
dead,  or  as  good  as  dead,  for  years." 

"  I  am  afraid  that 's  a  slight  exaggeration 
of  the  rare  custom  of  granting 4  noble  lands,' 
or  estates  that  carry  hereditary  titles  with 
them,"  said  Paul,  more  emphatically,  per 
haps,  than  the  occasion  demanded. 

"  Fact,  sir  —  George  there  knows  it  all," 
said  Pendleton.  "  He  gets  it  from  the 
other  servants.  I  don't  speak  the  language, 
sir,  but  he  does.  Picked  it  up  in  a  year." 

"  I  must  compliment  him  on  his  fluency, 
certainly,"  said  Paul,  looking  at  George. 

The  old  servant  smiled,  and  not  without  a 
certain  condescension.  "  Yes,  sah ;  I  don' 
say  to  a  scholar  like  yo'self,  sah,  dat  I  'se 
got  de  grandmatical  presichion  ;  but  as  fah, 
sah  —  as  fah  as  de  idiotisms  ob  de  language 
goes.  Sah  —  it 's  gen'lly  allowed  I  'm  'dar  I 


162      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

As  to  what  Marse  Harry  says  ob  de  igno- 
bling  ob  predecessors,  I  've  had  it,  sah,  from 
de  best  autority,  sah  —  de  furst,  I  may  say, 
sah  —  de  real  prima  facie  men  —  de  gem- 
plum  ob  his  Serene  Highness,  in  de  korse 
eb  ordinary  conversashun,  sah." 

"  That  '11  do,  George,"  said  Pendleton, 
with  paternal  brusqueness.  "  Run  on  ahead 
and  tell  that  blank  chamberlain  that  Mr. 
Hathaway  is  one  of  my  friends  —  and  have 
supper  accordingly."  As  the  negro  has 
tened  away  he  turned  to  Paul:  "What  he 
says  is  true  :  he  's  the  most  popular  man  or 
boy  in  all  Strudle  Bad  —  a  devilish  sight 
more  than  his  master — and  goes  anywhere 
where  I  can't  go.  Princes  and  princesses 
stop  and  talk  to  him  in  the  street ;  the 
Grand  Duke  asked  permission  to  have  him 
np  in  his  carriage  at  the  races  the  other  day ; 
and,  by  the  Eternal,  sir,  he  gives  the  style 
to  all  the  flunkeys  in  town  !  " 

"  And  I  see,  he  dresses  the  character," 
observed  Paul. 

"  His  own  idea  —  entirely.  And,  by 
Jove  !  he  proves  to  be  right.  You  can't  do 
anything  here  without  a  uniform.  And 
they  tell  me  he 's  got  everything  correct, 
down  to  the  crest  on  the  buttons." 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      163 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  Pendleton  retaining  a  certain  rigid 
ity  of  step  and  bearing  which  Paul  had 
come  to  recognize  as  indicating  some  unea 
siness  or  mental  disturbance  on  his  part. 
Hathaway  had  no  intention  of  precipitating 
the  confidence  of  his  companion.  Perhaps 
experience  had  told  him  it  would  come  soon 
enough.  So  he  spoke  carelessly  of  himself. 
How  the  need  of  a  year's  relaxation  and 
change  had  brought  him  abroad,  his  jour- 
neyings,  and,  finally,  how  he  had  been  ad 
vised  by  his  German  physician  to  spend  a 
few  weeks  at  Strudle  Bad  preparatory  to 
the  voyage  home.  Yet  he  was  perfectly 
aware  that  the  colonel  from  time  to  time 
cast  a  furtive  glance  at  his  face.  "And 
you"  he  said  in  conclusion  —  " when  do 
you  intend  to  return  to  California  ?  " 

The  colonel  hesitated  slightly.  "  I  shall 
remain  in  Europe  until  Miss  Arguello  is  — 
settled  —  I  mean,"  he  added  hurriedly,  "  un 
til  she  has  —  ahem  !  —  completed  her  edu 
cation  in  foreign  ways  and  customs.  You 
see,  Hathaway,  I  have  constituted  myself, 
after  a  certain  fashion,  I  may  say  —  still, 
her  guardian.  I  am  an  old  man,  with 
neither  kith  nor  kin  myself,  sir  —  I  'm  a 


164      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

little  too  old-fashioned  for  the  boys  over 
there  "  —  with  a  vague  gesture  towards  the 
west,  which,  however,  told  Paul  how  near 
it  still  was  to  him.  "  But  then,  among  the 
old  f  ogys  here  —  blank  it  all !  —  it  is  n't 
noticed.  So  I  look  after  her,  you  see,  or 
rather  make  myself  responsible  for  her  gen 
erally —  although,  of  course,  she  has  other 
friends  and  associates,  you  understand,  more 
of  her  own  age  and  tastes." 

"  And  I  've  no  doubt  she 's  perfectly  sat 
isfied,"  said  Paul  in  a  tone  of  conviction. 

"  Well,  yes,  sir,  I  presume  so,"  said  the 
colonel  slowly  ;  "  but  I  've  sometimes 
thought,  Mr.  Hathaway,  that  it  would  have 
been  better  if  she  'd  have  had  a  woman's 
care  —  the  protection  you  understand,  of  an 
elderly  woman  of  society.  That  seems  to 
be  the  style  here,  you  know  —  a  chaperon, 
they  call  it.  Now,  Milly  Woods,  you  see, 
is  about  the  same  age,  and  the  Dona  Anna, 
of  course,  is  older,  but  —  blank  it !  —  she  's 
as  big  a  flirt  as  the  rest  —  I  mean,"  he 
added,  correcting  himself  sharply,  "she 
lacks  balance,  sir,  and  —  what  shall  I  call 
it  ?  —  self-abnegation." 

"  Then  Dona  Anna  is  still  of  your  party  ?  " 
asked  Paul. 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      165 

"  She  is,  sir,  and  her  brother,  Don  Caesar. 
I  have  thought  it  advisable,  on  Yerba's  ac 
count,  to  keep  up  as  much  as  possible  the 
suggestion  of  her  Spanish  relationship  —  al- 
Jiough  by  reason  of  their  absurd  ignorance 
of  geography  and  political '  divisions  out 
here,  there  is  a  prevailing  impression  that  she 
is  a  South  American.  A  fact,  sir.  I  have 
myself  been  mistaken  for  the  Dictator  of 
one  of  these  infernal  Republics,  and  I  have 
been  pointed  out  as  ruling  over  a  million  or 
two  of  niggers  like  George  !  " 

There  was  no  trace  of  any  conception  of 
humor  in  the  colonel's  face,  although  he  ut 
tered  a  short  laugh,  as  if  in  polite  accep 
tance  of  the  possibility  that  Paul  might  have 
one.  Far  from  that,  his  companion,  look 
ing  at  the  striking^  pro  file  and  erect  figure 
at  his  siae  —  at  the  long  white  moustache 
which  drooped  from  his  dark  cheeks,  and  re 
membering  his  own  sensations  at  first  seeing 
George  —  thought  the  popular  belief  not  so 
wonderful.  He  was  even  forced  to  admit 
that  the  perfect  unconsciousness  on  the  part 
of  master  and  man  of  any  incongruity  or 
peculiarity  in  themselves  assisted  the  public 
misconception.  And  it  was,  I  fear,  with  a 
feeling  of  wicked  delight  that,  on  entering 


166  A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  hotel,  he  hailed  the  evident  consterna 
tion  of  those  correct  fellow-countrymen  from 
whom  he  had  lately  fled,  at  what  they  appar 
ently  regarded  as  a  national  scandal.  He 
overheard  their  hurried  assurance  to  their 
English  friends  that  his  companions  were 
not  from  Boston,  and  enjoyed  their  mortifi 
cation  that  this  explanation  did  not  seem  to 
detract  from  the  interest  and  relief  with 
which  the  Britons  surveyed  them,  or  the 
open  admiration  of  the  Germans. 

Although  Pendleton  somewhat  unbent 
during  supper,  he  did  not  allude  to  the  se 
cret  of  Yerba's  parentage,  nor  of  any  tardy 
confidence  of  hers.  To  all  appearance  the 
situation  remained  as  it  was  three  years  ago. 
He  spoke  of  her  great  popularity  as  an 
heiress  and  a  beautiful  woman,  and  the 
marked  attentions  she  received.  He  doubted 
not  that  she  had  rejected  very  distinguished 
offers,  but  she  kept  that  to  herself.  She 
was  perfectly  competent  to  do  so.  She  was 
no  giddy  girl,  to  be  flattered  or  deceived ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  had  never  known  a 
cooler  or  more  sensible  woman.  She  knew 
her  own  worth.  When  she  met  the  man 
who  satisfied  her  ambition  and  understand 
ing,  she  would  marry,  and  not  before.  He 


A   WARD    OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.      167 

did  not  know  what  that  ambition  was  ;  it 
was  something  exalted,  of  course.  He  could 
only  say,  of  his  own  knowledge,  that  last 
year,  when  they  were  on  the  Italian  lakes, 
there  was  a  certain  prince  —  Mr.  Hathaway 
would  understand  why  he  did  not  mention 
names  —  who  was  not  only  attentive  to  her, 
but  attentive  to  him,  sir,  by  Jove !  and 
most  significant  in  his  inquiries.  It  was 
the  only  occasion  when  he,  the  colonel,  had 
ever  spoken  to  her  on  such  subjects ;  and, 
knowing  that  she  was  not  indifferent  to  the 
fellow,  who  was  not  bad  of  his  kind,  he  had 
asked  her  why  she  had  not  encouraged  his 
suit.  She  had  said,  with  a  laugh,  that  he 
could  n't  marry  her  unless  he  gave  up  his 
claim  of  succession  to  a  certain  reigning 
house ;  and  she  would  n't  accept  him  with 
out  it.  Those  were  her  words,  sir,  and  he 
could  only  say  that  the  prince  left  a  few 
days  afterwards,  and  they  had  never  seen 
him  since.  As  to  the  princelings  and 
counts  and  barons,  she  knew  to  a  day  the 
date  of  their  patents  of  nobility,  and  what 
privileges  they  were  entitled  to  ;  she  could 
tell  to  a  dot  the  value  of  their  estates,  the 
amount  of  their  debts,  and,  by  Jove !  sir, 
the  amount  of  mortgages  she  was  expected 


168      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

to  pay  off  before  she  married  them.  She 
knew  the  amount  of  income  she  had  to 
bring  to  the  Prussian  Army,  from  the  gen 
eral  to  the  lieutenant.  She  understood  her 
own  value  and  her  rights.  There  was  a 
young  English  lordling  she  met  on  the 
Ehine,  whose  boyish  ways  and  simplicity 
seemed  to  please  her.  They  were  great 
friends  ;  but  he  wanted  him  —  the  colonel 
—  to  induce  her  to  accept  an  invitation  for 
both  to  visit  his  mother's  home  in  England, 

O 

that  his  people  might  see  her.  But  she  de 
clined,  sir !  She  declined  to  pass  in  review 
before  his  mother.  She  said  it  was  for  Mm 
to  pass  in  review  before  her  mother. 

"Did  she  say  that?"  interrupted  Paul, 
fixing  his  bright  eyes  upon  the  colonel. 

"  If  she  had  one,  if  she  had  one,"  cor 
rected  the  colonel,  hastily.  "  Of  course  it 
was  only  an  illustration.  That  she  is  an 
orphan  is  generally  known,  sir." 

There  was  a  dead  silence  for  a  few  mo 
ments.  The  colonel  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  pulled  his  moustache.  Paul  turned 
away  his  eyes,  and  seemed  absorbed  in  re 
flection.  After  a  moment  the  colonel 
coughed,  pushed  aside  his  glass,  and,  lean 
ing  across  the  table,  said,  "  I  have  a  favor 
to  ask  of  yon,  Mr.  Hathaway." 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      169 

There  was  such  a  singular  change  in  the 
tone  of  his  voice,  an  unexpected  relaxation 
of  some  artificial  tension,  —  a  relaxation 
which  struck  Paul  so  pathetically  as  being 
as  much  physical  as  mental,  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  been  overtaken  in  some  exertion 
by  the  weakness  of  age,  —  that  he  looked 
up  quickly.  Certainly,  although  still  erect 
and  lightly  grasping  his  moustache,  the 
colonel  looked  older. 

"By  all  means,  my  dear  colonel,"  said 
Paul  warmly. 

"  During  the  time  you  remain  here  you 
can  hardly  help  meeting  Miss  Arguello,  per 
haps  frequently.  It  would  be  strange  if  you 
did  not;  it  would  appear  to  everybody  still 
stranger.  Give  me  your  word  as  a  gentle 
man  that  you  will  not  make  the  least  allu 
sion  to  her  of  the  past  —  nor  reopen  the 
subject." 

Paul  looked  fixedly  at  the  colonel.  "  I 
certainly  had  no  intention  of  doing  so,"  he 
said  after  a  pause,  "  for  I  thought  it  was  al 
ready  settled  by  you  beyond  disturbance  or 
discussion.  But  do  I  understand  you,  that 
she  has  shown  any  uneasiness  regarding 
it  ?  From  what  you  have  just  told  me  of 
her  plans  and  ambition,  I  can  scarcely  im- 


170      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

agine  that  she  has  any  suspicion  of  the  real 
facts." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  colonel  hur 
riedly.  "  But  I  have  your  promise." 

"  I  promise  you,"  said  Paul,  after  a  pause, 
"  that  I  shall  neither  introduce  nor  refer  to 
the  subject  myself,  and  that  if  she  should 
question  me  again  regarding  it,  which  is 
hardly  possible,  I  will  reveal  nothing  with 
out  your  consent." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Pendleton,  without, 
however,  exhibiting  much  relief  in  his  face. 
"  She  will  return  here  to-morrow." 

"I  thought  you  said  she  was  absent  for 
some  days,"  said  Paul. 

"  Yes ;  but  she  is  coming  back  to  say 
good-by  to  Dona  Anna,  who  arrives  here 
with  her  brother  the  same  day,  on  their  way 
to  Paris." 

It  flashed  through  Paul's  mind  that  the 
last  time  he  had  seen  her  was  in  the  com 
pany  of  the  Briones.  It  was  not  a  pleasant 
concidence.  Yet  he  was  not  aware  that  it 
had  affected  him,  until  he  saw  the  colonel 
watching  him. 

"  I  believe  you  don't  fancy  the  brother," 
said  Pendleton. 

For  an  instant  Paul  was  strongly  tempted 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      171 

to  avow  his  old  vague  suspicions  of  Don 
Caesar,  but  the  utter  hopelessness  of  reopen 
ing  the  whole  subject  again,  and  his  recol 
lection  of  the  passage  in  Pendleton's  letter 
that  purported  to  be  Yerba's  own  theory  of 
his  dislike,  checked  him  in  time.  He  only 
said,  "  I  don't  remember  whether  I  had  any 
cause  for  disliking  Don  Caesar ;  I  can  tell 
better  when  I  see  him  again,"  and  changed 
the  subject.  A  few  moments  later  the  colo 
nel  summoned  George  from  some  lower  re 
gion  of  the  hotel,  and  rose  to  take  his  leave. 
"  Miss  Arguello,  with  her  maid  and  courier, 
will  occupy  her  old  suite  of  rooms  here,"  he 
remarked,  with  a  return  of  his  old  imperi- 
ousness.  "  George  has  given  the  orders  for 
her.  /  shall  not  change  my  present  lodgings, 
but  of  course  will  call  every  day.  Good 
night!" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  next  morning  Paul  could  not  help 
noticing  an  increased  and  even  exaggerated 
respect  paid  him  by  the  hotel  attendants. 
He  was  asked  if  his  Excellency  would  be 
served  with  breakfast  in  a  private  room, 
and  his  condescension  in  selecting  the  pub 
lic  coffee-room  struck  the  obsequious  cham 
berlain,  but  did  not  prevent  him  from  pre 
ceding  Paul  backwards  to  the  table,  and 
summoning  a  waiter  to  attend  specially  upon 
"milor."  Surmising  that  George  and  the 
colonel  might  be  in  some  way  connected 
with  this  extravagance,  he  postponed  an  in 
vestigation  till  he  should  have  seen  them 
again.  And,  although  he  hardly  dared  to 
confess  it  to  himself,  the  unexpected  pros 
pect  of  meeting  Yerba  again  fully  preoccu 
pied  his  thoughts.  He  had  believed  that 
he  would  eventually  see  her  in  Europe,  in 
some  vague  and  indefinite  way  and  hour : 
it  had  been  in  his  mind  when  he  started 
from  California.  That  it  would  be  so  soon, 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      173 

and  in  such  a  simple  and  natural  manner, 
he  had  never  conceived. 

"  He  had  returned  from  his  morning  walk 
to  the  Brunnerii  and  was  sitting  idly  in  his 
room,  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 
It  opened  to  a  servant  bearing  a  salver  with 
a  card.  Paul  lifted  it  with  a  slight  tremor, 
not  at  the  engraved  name  of  "  Maria  Con- 
cepcion  de  Arguellos  de  la  Yerba  Buena," 
but  at  the  remembered  school-girl  hand  that 
had  penciled  underneath  the  words,  "  wishes 
the  favor  of  an  audience  with  his  Excellency 
the  Lord  Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  Cali- 
fornias." 

Paul  looked  inquiringly  at  the  servant. 
"The  gnadige  Fraulein  was  in  her  own 
salon.  Would  Excellency  walk  that  way  ? 
It  was  but  a  step ;  in  effect,  the  next  apart 
ment/' 

Paul  followed  him  into  the  hall  with  won 
dering  steps.  The  door  of  the  next  room 
was  open,  and  disclosed  a  handsomely  fur 
nished  salon.  A  tall  graceful  figure  rose 
quickly  from  behind  a  writing-table,  and 
advanced  with  outstretched  hands  and  a 
frank  yet  mischievous  smile.  It  was  Yerba. 

Standing  there  in  a  grayish  hat*  mantle, 
and  traveling  dress,  all  of  one  subdued  yet 


174      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

alluring  tone,  she  looked  as  beautiful  as 
when  he  had  last  seen  her  —  and  yet  —  un 
like.  For  a  brief  bitter  moment  his  instincts 
revolted  at  this  familiar  yielding  up  in  his 
fair  countrywomen  of  all  that  was  distinc 
tively  original  in  them  to  alien  tastes  and 
habits,  and  he  resented  the  plastic  yet  char 
acterless  mobility  which  made  Yerba's  Pari 
sian  dress  and  European  manner  fit  her  so 
charmingly  and  yet  express  so  little.  For 
a  brief  critical  moment  he  remembered  the 
placid,  unchanging  simplicity  of  German, 
and  the  inflexible  and  ingrained  reserve  of 
English,  girlhood,  in  opposition  to  this  indis 
tinctive  cosmopolitan  grace.  But  only  for 
a  moment.  As  soon  as  she  spoke,  a  certain 
flavor  of  individuality  seemed  to  return  to 
her  speech. 

"  Confess,"  she  said,  "  it  was  a  courageous 
thing  for  me  to  do.  You  might  have  been 
somebody  else  —  a  real  Excellency  —  or 
Heaven  knows  what !  Or,  what  is  worse  in 
your  new  magnificence,  you  might  have  for 
gotten  one  of  your  oldest,  most  humble,  but 
faithful  subjects."  She  drew  back  and  made 
him  a  mock  ceremonious  curtsy,  that  even 
in  its  charming  exaggeration  suggested  to 
Paul,  however,  that  she  had  already  made 
it  somewhere  seriously. 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      175 

"  But  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  he  asked, 
smiling,  feeling  not  only  his  doubts  and  un 
easiness  vanish,  but  even  the  years  of  sepa 
ration  melt  away  in  her  presence.  "  I  know 
I  went  to  bed  last  night  a  very  humble 
individual,  and  yet  I  seem  to  awaken  this 
morning  a  very  exalted  personage.  Am  I 
really  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  or  am  I 
dreaming  ?  Might  I  trouble  you,  as  my  pre 
decessor  Abou  Hassan  did  Sweetlips,  to  bite 
my  little  finger  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  have  not  seen 
the  '  Anzeiger  ?  '  : '  she  returned,  taking  a 
small  German  printed  sheet  from  the  table 
and  pointing  to  a  paragraph.  Paul  took  the 
paper.  Certainly  there  was  the  plain  an 
nouncement  among  the  arrivals  of  "  His  Ex 
cellency  Paul  Hathaway,  Lord  Lieutenant- 
Governor  of  the  Californias."  A  light 
flashed  upon  him. 

"  This  is  George's  work.  He  and  Colonel 
Pendleton  were  here  with  me  last  night." 

"  Then  you  have  seen  the  colonel  al 
ready  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  scarcely  percep 
tible  alteration  of  expression,  which,  how 
ever,  struck  Paul. 

"  Yes.  I  met  him  at  the  theatre  last  even 
ing."  He  was  about  to  plunge  into  an 


176      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

animated  description  of  the  colonel's  indig 
nation,  but  checked  himself,  he  knew  not 
why.  But  he  was  thankful  the  next  mo 
ment  that  he  had. 

"That  accounts  for  everything,"  she  said, 
lifting  her  pretty  shoulders  with  a  slight 
shrug  of  weariness.  ,  "  I  had  to  put  a  stop 
to  George's  talking  about  me  three  months 
ag°»  —  his  extravagance  is  something  too  aw 
ful.  And  the  colonel,  who  is  complete^  in 
his  hands,  —  trusting  him  for  everything, 
even  the  language,  —  doesn't  see  it." 

"  But  he  is  extravagant  in  the  praise  of 
his  friends  only,  and  you  certainly  justify 
all  he  can  say." 

She  was  taking  off  her  hat,  and  stopped 
for  a  moment  to  look  at  him  thoughtfully, 
with  the  soft  tendrils  of  her  hair  clingin^  to 
her  forehead.  "  Did  the  colonel  talk  much 
about  me  ?  " 

"A  great  deal.  -In  fact,  I  think  we  talked 
of  nothing  else.  He  has  told  me  of  your 
triumphs  and  your  victims  ;  of  your  various 
campaigns  and  your  conquests.  And  yet  I 
dare  say  he  has  not  told  me  all  —  and  I 
am  dying  to  hear  more." 

She  had  laid  down  her  hat  and  unloosed 
a  large  bow  of  her  mantle,  but  stopped  sud- 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      177 

denly  in  the  midst  of  it  and  sat  down 
again. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  do  something  for  me." 

"  You  have  only  to  name  it." 

"  Well,  drop  all  this  kind  of  talk !  Try 
to  think  of  me  as  if  I  had  just  come  from 
California  —  or,  better,  as  if  you  had  never 
known  anything  of  me  at  all  —  and  we  met 
for  the  first  time.  You  could,  I  dare  say, 
make  yourself  very  agreeable  to  such  a 
young  lady  who  was  willing  to  be  pleased  — 
why  not  to  me  ?  I  venture  to  say  you  have 
not  ever  troubled  yourself  about  me  since 
we  last  met.  No  —  hear  me  through  — 
why,  then,  should  you  wish  to  talk  over 
what  did  n't  concern  you  at  the  time  ? 
Promise  me  you  will  stop  this  reminiscent 
gossip,  and  I  promise  you  /  will  not  only 
not  bore  you  with  it,  but  take  care  that  it  is 
not  intruded  upon  you  by  others.  Make 
yourself  pleasant  to  me  by  talking  about 
yourself  and  your  prospects  —  anything  but 
me  —  and  I  will  throw  over  those  princes 
and  barons  that  the  colonel  has  raved  about 
and  devote  myself  to  you  while  you  are 
here.  Does  that  suit  your  Excellency  ? " 
She  had  crossed  her  knees,  and,  with  her 
hands  clasped  over  them,  and  the  toe  of  her 


178      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

small  boot  advanced  beyond  her  skirt,  leaned 
forward  in  the  attitude  he  remembered  to 
have  seen  her  take  in  the  summer-house  at 
Rosario. 

"  Perfectly,"  he  said. 

"  How  long  will  you  be  here  ?  " 

"  About  three  weeks :  that,  I  believe,  is 
the  time  allotted  for  my  cure." 

"  Are  you  really  ill,"  she  said  quietly,  "  or 
imagine  yourself  so  ?  " 

"It  amounts  to  about  the  same  thing. 
But  my  cure  may  not  take  so  long,"  he 
added,  fixing  his  bright  eyes  upon  her. 

She  returned  his  gaze  thoughtfully,  and 
they  remained  looking  at  each  other  silently. 

"  Then  you  are  stronger  than  you  give 
yourself  credit  for.  That  is  very  often  the 
case,"  she  said  quietly.  "  There,"  she  added 
in  another  tone,  "it  is  settled.  You  will 
come  and  go  as  you  like,  using  this  salon  as 
your  own.  Stay,  we  can  do  something  to 
day.  What  do  you  say  to  a  ride  in  the  for 
est  this  afternoon?  Milly  isn't  here  yet, 
but  it  will  be  quite  proper  for  you  to  accom 
pany  me  on  horseback,  though,  of  course, 
we  could  n't  walk  a  hundred  yards  down  the 
Allee  together  unless  we  were  verlobt." 

"But,"  said  Paul,   "you    are    expecting 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      179 

company  this  afternoon.  Don  Cassar  —  I 
mean  Miss  Briones  and  her  brother  are 
coming  here  to  say  good-by." 

She  regarded  him  curiously,  but  without 
emotion. 

"  Colonel  Pendleton  should  have  added 
that  they  were  to  remain  here  overnight  as 
my  guests,"  she  said  composodly.  And  of 
course  we  shall  be  back  in  time  for  dinner. 
But  that  is  nothing  to  you.  You  have  only 
to  be  ready  at  three  o'clock.  I  will  see  that 
the  horses  are  ordered.  I  often  ride  here, 
and  the  people  know  my  tastes  and  habits. 
We  will  have  a  pleasant  ride  and  a  good 
long  talk  together,  and  I  '11  show  you  a  ruin 
and  a  distant  view  of  the  villa  where  I  have 
been  staying."  She  held  out  her  hand  with 
a  frank  girlish  smile,  and  even  a  girlish  an 
ticipation  of  pleasure  in  her  brown  eyes. 
He  bent  over  her  slim  fingers  for  a  moment, 
and  withdrew. 

When  he  was  in  his  own  room  again,  he 
was  conscious  only  of  a  strong  desire  to 
avoid  the  colonel  until  after  his  ride  with 
Yerba.  He  would  keep  his  word  so  far  as 
to  abstain  from  allusion  to  her  family  or  her 
past :  indeed,  he  had  his  own  opinion  of  its 
futility.  But  it  would  be  strange  if,  with 


180      A  WARD   OF  TEE    GOLDEN  GATE. 

his  past  experience,  he  could  not  find  some 
other  way  to  determine  her  convictions  or 
win  her  confidence  during  those  two  hours 
of  companionship.  He  would  accept  her 
terms  fairly ;  if  she  had  any  ulterior  design 
in  her  advances,  he  would  detect  it ;  if  she 
had  the  least  concern  for  him,  she  could  not 
continue  long  an  artificial  friendship.  But 
he  must  not  think  of  that ! 

By  absenting  himself  from  the  hotel  he 
managed  to  keep  clear  of  Pendleton  until 
the  hour  arrived.  He  was  gratified  to  find 
Yerba  in  the  simplest  and  most  sensible  of 
habits,  as  if  she  had  already  divined  his 
tastes  and  had  wished  to  avoid  attracting 
undue  attention.  Nevertheless,  it  very  pret 
tily  accented  her  tall  graceful  figure,  and 
Paul,  albeit,  like  most  artistic  admirers  of 
the  sex,  not  recognizing  a  woman  on  a  horse 
as  a  particularly  harmonious  spectacle,  was 
forced  to  admire  her.  Both  rode  well,  and 
naturally  —  having  been  brought  up  in  the 
same  Western  school  —  the  horses  recog 
nized  it,  and  instinctively  obeyed  them,  and 
their  conversation  had  the  easy  deliberation 
and  inflection  of  a  tete-d-tete.  Paul,  in  view 
of  her  previous  hint,  talked  to  her  of  him 
self  and  his  fortunes,  of  which  she  ap- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE.      181 

peared,  however,  to  have  some  knowledge. 
His  health  had  obliged  him  lately  to  abandon 
politics  and  office  ;  he  had  been  successful 
in  some  ventures,  and  had  become  a  junior 
partner  in  a  bank  with  foreign  correspon 
dence.  She  listened  to  him  for  some  time 
with  interest  and  attention,  but  at  last  her 
face  became  abstracted  and  thoughtful.  "  I 
wish  I  were  a  man !  "  she  said  suddenly. 

Paul  looked  at  her  quickly.  For  the  first 
time  he  detected  in  the  ring  of  her  voice 
something  of  the  passionate  quality  he  fan 
cied  he  had  always  seen  in  her  face. 

"  Except  that  it  might  give  you  better 
control  of  your  horse,  I  don't  see  why,"  said 
Paul.  "  And  I  don't  entirely  believe  you." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  no  woman  really  wishes  to  be  a 
man  unless  she  is  conscious  of  her  failure  as 
a  woman." 

"And  how  do  you  know  I'm  not?"  she 
said,  checking  her  horse  and  looking  in  his 
face.  A  quick  conviction  that  she  was  on 
the  point  of  some  confession  sprang  into  his 
mind,  but  unfortunately  showed  in  his  face. 
She  beat  back  his  eager  look  with  a  short 
laugh.  "There,  don't  speak,  and  don't 
look  like  that.  That  remark  was  worthy 


182      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  usual  artless  maiden's  invitation  to  a 
compliment,  was  n't  it  ?  Let  us  keep  to  the 
subject  of  yourself.  Why,  with  your  polit 
ical  influence,  don't  you  get  yourself  ap 
pointed  to  some  diplomatic  position  over 
here?" 

"  There  are  none  in  our  service.  You 
wouldn't  want  me  to  sink  myself  in  some 
absurd  social  functions,  which  are  called  by 
that  name,  merely  to  become  the  envy  and 
hatred  of  a  few  rich  republicans,  like  your 
friends  who  haunt  foreign  courts  ?  " 

"  That 's  not  a  pretty  speech  —  but  I  sup 
pose  I  invited  that  too.  Don't  apologize. 
I  'd  rather  see  you  flare  out  like  that  than 
pay  compliments.  Yet  I  fancy  you're  a 
diplomatist,  for  all  that." 

"  You  did  me  the  honor  to  believe  I  was 
one  once,  when  I  was  simply  the  most  pal 
pable  ass  and  bungler  living,"  said  Paul 
bitterly. 

She  was  still  sweetly  silent,  apparently 
preoccupied  in  smoothing  out  the  mane  of 
her  walking  horse.  "  Did  I  ? "  she  said 
softly.  He  drew  close  beside  her. 

"  How  different  the  vegetation  is  here 
from  what  it  is  with  us  !  "  she  said  with  ner 
vous  quickness,  directing  his  attention  to 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   183 

the  grass  road  beneath  them,  without  lifting 
her  eyes.  "  I  don't  mean  what  is  cultivated, 
—  for  I  suppose  it  takes  centuries  to  make 
the  lawns  they  have  in  England,  —  but  even 
here  the  blades  of  grass  seem  to  press  closer 
together,  as  if  they  were  crowded  or  over- 
populated,  like  the  country  ;  and  this  for 
est,  which  has  been  always  wild  and  was  a 
hunting  park,  has  a  blase  look,  as  if  it  was 
already  tired  of  the  unchanging  traditions 
and  monotony  around  it.  I  think  over 
there  Nature  affects  and  influences  us  :  here, 
1  fancy,  it  is  itself  affected  by  the  people." 

"I  think  a  good  deal  of  Nature  comes 
over  from  America  for  that  purpose,"  he 
said  dryly. 

"And  I  think  you  are  breaking  your 
promise  —  besides  being  a  goose  !  "  she  re 
torted  smartly.  Nevertheless,  for  some  oc 
cult  reason  they  both  seemed  relieved  by 
this  exquisite  witticism,  and  trotted  on  ami 
cably  together.  When  Paul  lifted  his  eyes 
to  hers  he  could  see  that  they  were  suffused 
with  a  tender  mischief,  as  of  a  reproving 
yet  secretly  admiring  sister,  and  her  strangely 
delicate  complexion  had  taken  on  itself  that 
faint  Alpine  glow  that  was  more  of  an  illu 
mination  than  a  color.  "  There,"  she  said 


184   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

gayly,  pointing  with  her  whip  as  the  wood 
opened    upon    a   glade   through  which   the 
parted  trees  showed  a  long  blue  curvature 
of  distant  hills,  "  you  see  that  white  thing 
lying  like  a  snowdrift  on  the  hills  ?  " 
"  Or  the  family  washing  on  a  hedge." 
"  As  you  please.     Well,  that  is  the  villa." 
"  And  you  were  very  happy  there?"  said 
Paul,  watching  her  girlishly  animated  face. 

"  Yes  ;  and  as  you  don't  ask  questions, 
I  '11  tell  you  why.  There  is  one  of  the 
sweetest  old  ladies  there  that  I  ever  met  — 
the  perfection  of  old-time  courtliness  with 
all  the  motherishness  of  a  German  woman. 
She  was  very  kind  to  me,  and,  as  she  had 
no  daughter  of  her  own,  I  think  she  treated 
me  as  if  I  was  one.  At  least,  I  can  imagine 
how  one  would  feel  to  her,  and  what  a 
woman  like  that  could  make  of  any  girl. 
You  laugh,  Mr.  Hathaway,  you  don't  un 
derstand  —  but  you  don't  know  what  an  ad 
vantage  it  would  be  to  a  girl  to  have  a 
mother  like  that,  and  know  that  she  could 
fall  back  on  her  and  hold  her  own  against 
anybody.  She  's  equipped  from  the  start, 
instead  of  being  handicapped.  It 's  all  very 
well  to  talk  about  the  value  of  money.  It 
can  give  you  everything  but  one  thing  — 
the  power  to  do  without  it." 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      185 

"I  think  its  purchasing  value  would  in 
clude  even  the  gn'ddige  Fran"  said  Paul, 
who  had  laughed  only  to  hide  the  uneasi 
ness  that  Yerba's  approach  to  the  tabooed 
subject  had  revived  in  him.  She  shook  her 
head  ;  then,  recovering  her  tone  of  gentle 
banter,  said,  "  There  —  I  've  made  a  con 
fession.  If  the  colonel  talks  to  you  again 
about  my  conquests,  you  will  know  that  at 
present  my  affections  are  centred  on  the 
Baron's  mother.  I  admit  it's  a  strong  point 
in  his  —  in  anybody's  —  favor,  who  can 
show  an  unblemished  maternal  pedigree. 
What  a  pity  it  is  you  are  an  orphan,  like 
myself,  Mr.  Hathaway  !  For  I  fancy  your 
mother  must  have  been  a  very  perfect 
woman.  A  great  deal  of  her  tact  and  pro 
priety  has  descended  to  you.  Only  it  would 
have  been  nicer  if  she  had  given  it  to  you, 
like  pocket  money,  as  occasion  required  — 
which  you  might  have  shared  with  me  — 
than  leaving  it  to  you  in  one  thumping 
legacy." 

It  was  impossible  to  tell  how  far  the 
playfulness  of  her  brown  eyes  suggested  any 
ulterior  meaning,  for  as  Paul  again  eagerly 
drew  towards  her,  she  sent  her  horse  into 
a  rapid  canter  before  him.  When  he  was 


186      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

at  her  side  again,  she  said,  "  There  is  still 
the  ruin  to  see  on  our  way  home.  It  is  just 
off  here  to  the  right.  But  if  you  wish  to 
go  over  it  we  will  have  to  dismount  at  the 
foot  of  the  slope  and  walk  up.  It  has  n't 
any  story  or  legend  that  I  know  of ;  I 
looked  over  the  guide  -  book  to  cram  for  it 
before  you  came,  but  there  was  nothing.  So 
you  can  invent  what  you  like." 

They  dismounted  at  the  beginning  of  a 
gentle  acclivity,  where  an  ancient  wagon- 
road,  now  grass-grown,  rose  smooth  as  a 
glacis.  Tying  their  horses  to  two  moplike 
bushes,  they  climbed  the  slope  hand  in  hand 
like  children.  There  were  a  few  winding 
broken  steps,  part  of  a  fallen  archway,  a 
few  feet  of  vaulted  corridor,  a  sudden  breach 
—  the  sky  beyond  —  and  that  was  all !  Not 
all ;  for  before  them,  overlooked  at  first, 
lay  a  chasm  covering  half  an  acre,  in  which 
the  whole  of  the  original  edifice  —  tower 
turrets,  walls,  and  battlements  —  had  been 
apparently  cast,  inextricably  mixed  and  min 
gled  at  different  depths  and  angles,  with 
here  and  there,  like  mushrooms  from  a  dust- 
heap,  a  score  of  trees  upspringing. 

"  This  is  not  Time  —  but  gunpowder," 
said  Paul,  leaning  over  a  parapet  of  the 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   187 

wall  and  gazing  at  the  abyss,  with  a  slight 
grimace. 

"  It  don't  look  very  romantic,  certainly," 
said  Yerba.  "  I  only  saw  it  from  the  road 
before.  I  'm  dreadfully  sorry,"  she  added, 
with  mock  penitence.  "  I  suppose,  however, 
something  must  have  happened  here." 

"  There  may  have  been  nobody  in  the 
house  at  the  time,"  said  Paul  gravely. 
"  The  family  may  have  been  at  the  baths." 

They  stood  close  together,  their  elbows 
resting  upon  the  broken  wall,  and  almost 
touching.  Beyond  the  abyss  and  darker 
forest  they  could  see  the  more  vivid  green 
and  regular  lines  of  the  plane-trees  of 
Strudle  Bad,  the  glitter  of  a  spire,  or  the 
flash  of  a  dome.  From  the  abyss  itself 
arose  a  cool  odor  of  moist  green  leaves,  the 
scent  of  some  unseen  blossoms,  and  around 
the  baking  vines  on  the  hot  wall  the  hum  of 
apparently  taskless  and  disappointed  bees. 
There  was  nobody  in  sight  in  the  forest 
road,  no  one  working  in  the  bordering  fields, 
and  no  suggestion  of  the  present.  There 
might  have  been  three  or  four  centuries  be 
tween  them  and  Strudle  Bad. 

"The  legend  of  this  place,"  said  Paul, 
glancing  at  the  long  brown  lashes  and  oval 


188      A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

outline  of  the  cheek  so  near  his  own,  "is 
simple,   yet   affecting.      A   cruel,   remorse 
less,  but  fascinating  Hexie  was  once  loved 
by  a  simple  shepherd.     He  had  never  dared 
to  syllable  his  hopeless  affection,  or  claim 
from  her  a   syllabled  —  perhaps    I    should 
say  a  one-syllabled  —  reply.     He  had  fol 
lowed  her  from  remote  lands,  dumbly  wor 
shiping  her,  building  in  his    foolish    brain 
an  air-castle  of  happiness,  which  by  reason 
of  her  magic  power  she  could  always  see 
plainly  in  his  eyes.     And  one  day,  beguil 
ing  him  in  the  depths  of  the  forest,  she  led 
him  to  a  fair-seeming  castle,  and,  bidding 
him  enter  its  portals,  offered  to  show  him  a 
realization  of  his  dream.     But,  lo !  even  as 
he  entered  the  stately  corridor  it  seemed  to 
crumble  away  before  him,  and   disclosed  a 
hideous  abyss  beyond,  in   which  the  whole 
of   that   goodly  palace   lay  in  heaped  and 
tangled  ruins  —  the   fitting  symbol  of  his 
wrecked  and  shattered  hopes." 

She  drew  back  a  little  way  from  him,  but 
still  holding  on  to  the  top  of  the  broken 
wall  with  one  slim  gauntleted  hand,  and 
swung  herself  to  one  side,  while  she  sur 
veyed  him  with  smiling,  parted  lips  and  con 
scious  eyelids.  He  promptly  covered  her 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      189 

hand  with  his  own,  but  she  did  not  seem  to 
notice  it. 

"  That  is  not  the  story,"  she  said,  in  a 
faint  voice  that  even  her  struggling  sauci- 
ness  could  not  make  steadier.  "  The  true 
story  is  called  'The  Legend  of  the  Goose- 
Girl  of  Strudle  Bad,  and  the  enterprising 
Gosling.'  There  was  once  a  goose-girl  of 
the  plain  who  tried  honestly  to  drive  her 
geese  to  market,  but  one  eccentric  and  will 
ful  gosling  -  Mr.  Hathaway !  Stop  — 
please  —  I  beg  you  let  me  go  !  " 

He  had  caught  her  in  his  arms  —  the  one 
encircling  her  waist,  the  other  hand  still 
grasping  hers.  She  struggled,  half  laugh 
ing  ;  yielded  for  a  breathless  moment  as  his 
lips  brushed  her  cheek,  and  —  threw  him 
off.  "There!  "she  said,  "that  will  do: 
the  story  was  not  illustrated." 

"But,  Yerba,"  he  said,  with  passionate 
eagerness,  "  hear  me  —  it  is  all  God's  truth. 
—  I  love  you  !  " 

She  drew  back  farther,  shaking  the  dust 
of  the  wall  from  the  folds  of  her  habit. 
Then,  with  a  lower  voice  and  a  paler  cheek, 
as  if  his  lips  had  sent  her  blood  and  utter 
ance  back  to  her  heart,  she  said,  "  Come, 
let  us  go." 


190   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  But  not  until  you  've  heard  me,  Yerba." 

"  Well,  then  —  I  believe  you  —  there  !  " 
she  said,  looking  at  him. 

"You  believe  me?"  he  repeated  eagerly, 
attempting  to  take  her  hand  again. 

She  drew  back  still  farther.  "  Yes,"  she 
said,  "  or  I  should  n't  be  here  now.  There ! 
that  must  suffice  you.  And  if  you  wish  me 
still  to  believe  you,  you  will  not  speak  of 
this  again  while  we  are  out  together.  Come, 
let  us  go  back  to  the  horses/' 

He  looked  at  her  with  all  his  soul.  She 
was  pale,  but  composed,  and  —  he  could  see 
—  determined.  He  followed  her  without  a 
word.  She  accepted  his  hand  to  support 
her  again  down  the  slope  without  embarrass 
ment  or  reminiscent  emotion.  The  whole 
scene  through  which  she  had  just  passed 
might  have  been  buried  in  the  abyss  and 
ruins  behind  her.  As  she  placed  her  foot 
in  his  hand  to  remount,  and  for  a  moment 
rested  her  weight  on  his  shoulder,  her  brown 
eyes  met  his  frankly  and  without  a  tremor. 

Nor  was  she  content  with  this.  As  Paul 
at  first  rode  on  silently,  his  heart  filled  with 
unsatisfied  yearning,  she  rallied  him  mis 
chievously.  Was  it  kind  in  him  on  this, 
their  first  day  together,  to  sulk  in  this  fash- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   191 

ion  ?  Was  it  a  promise  for  their  future 
excursions  ?  Did  he  intend  to  carry  this 
lugubrious  visage  through  the  Allee  and  up 
to  the  courtyard  of  the  hotel  to  proclaim 
his  sentimental  condition  to  the  world  ?  At 
least,  she  trusted  he  would  not  show  it  to 
Milly,  who  might  remember  that  this  was 
only  the  second  time  they  had  met  each 
other.  There  was  something  so  sweetly 
reasonable  in  this,  and  withal  not  without 
a  certain  hopefulness  for  the  future,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  half  -  mischievous,  half  -  re 
proachful  smile  that  accompanied  it,  that 
Paul  exerted  himself,  and  eventually  recov 
ered  his  lost  gayety.  When  they  at  last 
drew  up  in  the  courtyard,  with  the  flush  of 
youth  and  exercise  in  their  faces,  Paul  felt 
he  was  the  object  of  envy  to  the  loungers, 
and  of  fresh  gossip  to  Strudle  Bad.  It 
struck  him  less  pleasantly  that  two  dark 
faces,  which  had  been  previously  regarding 
him  in  the  gloom  of  the  corridor  and  van 
ished  as  he  approached,  reappeared  some 
moments  later  in  Yerba's  salon  as  Don 
Caesar  and  Dona  Anna,  with  a  benignly  dif 
ferent  expression.  Dona  Anna  especially 
greeted  him  with  so  much  of  the  ostentatious 
archness  of  a  confident  and  forgiving  woman 


192       A   WARD   OF  TEE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

to  a  momentarily  recreant  lover,  that  he  felt 
absurdly  embarrassed  in  Yerba's  presence. 
He  was  thinking  how  he  could  excuse  him 
self,  when  he  noticed  a  beautiful  basket  of 
flowers  on  the  table  and  a  tiny  note  bearing 
a  baron's  crest.  Yerba  had  put  it  aside 
with  —  as  it  seemed  to  him  at  the  moment 

—  an   almost   too   pronounced    indifference 

—  and   an    indifference   that   was    strongly 
contrasted  to  Dona  Anna's  eagerly  expressed 
enthusiasm  over  the  offering,  and  her  ulti 
mate  supplications  to  Paul  and  her  brother 
to  admire  its  beauties  and   the  wonderful 
taste  of  the  donor. 

All  this  seemed  so  incongruous  with  Paul's 
feelings,  and  above  all  with  the  recollection 
of  his  scene  with  Yerba,  that  he  excused 
himself  from  dining  with  the  party,  alleging 
an  engagement  with'  his  old  fellow-traveler 
the  German  officer,  whose  acquaintance  he 
had  renewed.  Yerba  did  not  press  him  ;  he 
even  fancied  she'  looked  relieved.  Colonel 
Pendleton  was  coining ;  Paul  was  not  loath, 
in  his  present  frame  of  mind,  to  dispense 
with  his  company.  A  conviction  that  the 
colonel's  counsel  was  not  the  best  guide  for 
Yerba,  and  that  in  some  vague  way  their  in 
terests  were  antagonistic,  had  begun  to 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      193 

force  itself  upon  him.  He  had  no  intention 
of  being  disloyal  to  her  old  guardian,  but 
he  felt  that  Pendleton  had  not  been  frank 
with  him  since  his  return  from  Rosario. 
Had  he  ever  been  so  with  her  ?  He  some 
times  doubted  his  disclaimer. 

He  was  lucky  in  finding  the  General  dis 
engaged,  and  together  they  dined  at  a  res 
taurant  and  spent  the  evening  at  the  Kur- 
saaL  Later,  at  the  Residenz  Club,  the 
General  leaned  over  his  beer-glass  and  smil 
ingly  addressed  his  companion. 

"  So  I  hear  you,  too,  are  a  conquest  of  the 
beautiful  South  American." 

For  an  instant  Paul,  recognizing  only 
Dona  Anna  under  that  epithet,  looked  puz 
zled. 

"  Come,  my  friend,"  said  the  General  re 
garding  him  with  some  amusement,  "  I  am 
an  older  man  than  you,  yet  I  hardly  think 
I  could  have  ridden  out  with  such  a  god 
dess  without  becoming  her  slave." 

Paul  felt  his  face  flush  in  spite  of  himself. 
"Ah!  you  mean  Miss  Arguello,"  he  said 
hurriedly,  his  color  increasing  at  his  own 
mention  of  that  name  as  if  he  were  impos 
ing  it  upon  his  honest  companion.  "  She 
is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine  —  from  my 
own  State  —  California." 


194      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

"Ah,  so,"  said  the  General,  lifting  his 
eyebrows  in  profound  apology.  "A  thou 
sand  pardons." 

"  Surely,"  said  Paul,  with  a  desperate  at 
tempt  to  recover  his  equanimity,  "  you  ought 
to  know  our  geography  better.' 

"  So,  I  am  wrong.  But  still  the  name  — 
Arguello  —  surely  that  is  not  American  ? 
Still,  they  say  she  has  no  accent,  and  does 
not  look  like  a  Mexican." 

For  an  instant  Paul  was  superstitiously 
struck  with  the  fatal  infelicity  of  Yerba's 
selection  of  a  foreign  name,  that  now  seemed 
only  to  invite  that  comment  and  criticism 
which  she  should  have  avoided.  Nor  could 
he  explain  it  at  length  to  the  General  with 
out  assisting  and  accenting  the  deception, 
which  he  was  always  hoping  in  some  vague 
way  to  bring  to  an  end.  He  was  sorry  he 
had  corrected  the  General ;  he  was  furious 
that  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  confused. 

Happily  his  companion  had  misinterpreted 
his  annoyance,  and  with  impulsive  German 
friendship  threw  himself  into  what  he  be 
lieved  to  be  Paul's  feelings.  "  Donnerwet- 
ter  I  Your  beautiful  countrywoman  is  made 
the  subject  of  curiosity  just  because  that 
stupid  baron  is  persistent  in  his  serious  at- 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      195 

tentions.  That  is  quite  enough,  my  good 
friend,  to  make  Klatschen  here  among  those 
animals  who  do  not  understand  the  freedom 
of  an  American  girl,  or  that  an  heiress  may 
have  something  else  to  do  with  her  money 
than  to  expend  it  on  the  Baron's  mortgages. 
But  "  —  he  stopped,  and  his  simple,  honest 
face  assumed  an  air  of  profound  and  saga 
cious  cunning  —  "I  am  glad  to  talk  about 
it  with  you,  who  of  course  are  perfectly 
familiar  with  the  affair.  I  shall  now  be 
able  to  know  what  to  say.  My  word,  my 
friend,  has  some  weight  here,  and  I  shall 
use  it.  And  now  you  shall  tell  me  who  is 
our  lovely  friend,  and  who  were  her  parents 
and  her  kindred  in  her  own  home.  Her 
associates  here,  you  possibly  know,  are  an 
impossible  colonel  and  his  never-before-ap 
proached  valet,  with  some  South  American 
Indian  planters,  and,  I  believe,  a  pork- 
butcher's  daughter.  But  of  them  —  it  makes 
nothing.  Tell  me  of  her  people." 

With  his  kindly  serious  face  within  a  few 
inches  of  Paul's,  and  sympathizing  curiosity 
beaming  from  his  pince-nez,  he  obliged  the 
wretched  and  conscience-stricken  Hathaway 
to  respond  with  a  detailed  account  of 
Yerba's  parentage  as  projected  by  herself 


196      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

and  indorsed  by  Colonel  Pendleton.  He 
dwelt  somewhat  particularly  on  the  roman 
tic  character  of  the  Trust,  hoping  to  draw 
the  General's  attention  away  from  the  ques 
tion  of  relationship,  but  he  was  chagrined 
to  find  that  the  honest  warrior  evidently 
confounded  the  Trust  with  some  eleemosy 
nary  institution  and  sympathetically  glossed 
it  over.  "  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  the  Mexi 
can  Minister  at  Berlin  would  know  all  about 
the  Arguello  family :  so  there  would  be  no 
question  there." 

Paul  was  not  sorry  when  the  time  came 
to  take  leave  of  his  friend  ;  but  once  again 
in  the  clear  moonlight  and  fresh,  balmy  air 
of  the  Allee,  he  forgot  the  unpleasantness 
of  the  interview.  He  found  himself  think 
ing  only  of  his  ride  with  Yerba.  Well !  he 
had  told  her  that  he  loved  her.  She  knew 
it  now,  and  although  she  had  forbidden  him 
to  speak  further,  she  had  not  wholly  rejected 
it.  It  must  be  her  morbid  consciousness  of 
the  mystery  of  her  birth  that  withheld  a  re 
turn  of  her  affections,  —  some  half-know 
ledge,  perhaps,  that  she  would  not  divulge, 
yet  that  kept  her  unduly  sensitive  of  accept 
ing  his  love.  He  was  satisfied  there  was  no 
entanglement ;  her  heart  was  virgin.  He 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      197 

even  dared  to  hope  that  she  had  always 
cared  for  him.  It  was  for  him  to  remove 
all  obstacles  —  to  prevail  upon  her  to  leave 
this  place  and  return  to  America  with  him 
as  her  husband,  the  guardian  of  her  good 
name,  and  the  custodian  of  her  secret.  At 
times  the  strains  of  a  dreamy  German  waltz, 
played  in  the  distance,  brought  back  to  him 
the  brief  moment  that  his  arm  had  encircled 
her  waist  by  the  crumbling  wall,  and  his 
pulses  grew  languid,  only  to  leap  firmer  the 
next  moment  with  more  desperate  resolve. 
He  would  win  her,  come  what  may !  He 
could  never  have  been  in  earnest  before  :  he 
loathed  and  hated  himself  for  his  previous 
passive  acquiescence  to  her  fate.  He  had 
been  a  weak  tool  of  the  colonel's  from  the 
first :  he  was  even  now  handicapped  by  a 
preposterous  promise  he  had  given  him ! 
Yes,  she  was  right  to  hesitate  —  to  question 
his  ability  to  make  her  happy !  He  had 
found  her  here,  surrounded  by  stupidity  and 
cupidity  —  to  give  it  no  other  name  —  so  pa 
tent  that  she  was  the  common  gossip,  and 
had  offered  nothing  but  a  boyish  declaration  ! 
As  he  strode  into  the  hotel  that  night  it 
was  well  that  he  did  not  meet  the  unfortu 
nate  colonel  on  the  staircase  ! 


198      A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

It  was  very  late,  although  there  was  still 
visible  a  light  in  Yerba's  salon,  shining  on 
her  balcony,  which  extended  before  and  in 
cluded  his  own  window.  From  time  to  time 
he  could  hear  the  murmur  of  voices.  It  was 
too  late  to  avail  himself  of  the  invitation 
to  join  them,  even  if  his  frame  of  mind  had 
permitted  it.  He  was  too  nervous  and  ex 
cited  to  go  to  bed,  and,  without  lighting  his 
candle,  he  opened  the  French  window  that 
gave  upon  the  balcony,  drew  a  chair  in  the 
recess  behind  the  curtain,  and  gazed  upon 
the  night.  It  was  very  quiet;  the  moon 
was  high,  the  square  was  sleeping  in  a 
trance  of  checkered  shadows,  like  a  gigantic 
chessboard,  with  black-  foreshortened  trees 
for  pawns.  The  click  of  a  cavalry  sabre, 
the  sound  of  a  footfall  on  the  pavement  of 
the  distant  Konigsstrasse,  were  distinctly  au 
dible  ;  a  far-off  railway  whistle  was  startling 
in  its  abruptness.  In  the  midst  of  this  calm 
the  opening  of  the  door  of  the  salon,  with 
the  sudden  uplifting  of  voices  in  the  hall, 
told  Paul  that  Yerba's  guests  were  leaving. 
He  heard  Doiia  Anna's  arch  accents  —  arch 
even  to  Colonel  Pendleton's  monotonous  bari 
tone  !  —  Milly's  high,  rapid  utterances,  the 
suave  falsetto  of  Don  Ca3sar,  and  her  voice, 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      199 

he  thought  a  trifle  wearied,  —  the  sound  of 
retiring  footsteps,  and  all  was  still  again. 

So  still  that  the  rhythmic  beat  of  the  dis 
tant  waltz  returned  to  him,  with  a  distinc- 
tiveness  that  he  could  idly  follow.  He 
thought  of  Rosario  and  the  rose-breath  of 
the  open  windows  with  a  strange  longing, 
and  remembered  the  half-stifled  sweetness 
of  her  happy  voice  rising  with  it  from  the 
veranda.  Why  had  he  ever  let  it  pass  from 
him  then  and  waft  its  fragrance  elsewhere  ? 
Why—  What  was  that? 

The  slight  turning  of  a  latch  !  The  creak 
ing  of  the  French  window  of  the  salon,  and 
somebody  had  slipped  softly  half  out  on  the 
balcony.  His  heart  stopped  beating.  From 
his  position  in  the  recess  of  his  own  window* 
with  his  back  to  the  partition  of  the  salon, 
he  could  see  nothing.  Yet  he  did  not  dare 
to  move.  For  with  the  quickened  senses  of 
a  lover  he  felt  the  diffused  and  perfumed 
aura  of  her  presence,  of  her  garments,  of 
her  flesh,  flow  in  upon  him  through  the  open 
window,  and  possess  his  whole  breathless 
being!  It  was  she!  Like  him,  perhaps, 
longing  to  enjoy  the  perfect  night  —  like 
him,  perhaps,  thinking  of  — 

"  So  you  ar-range  to  get  rid  of  me  —  ha ! 


200      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

lik  thees  ?  To  tur-rn  me  off  from  your  heels 
like  a  dog  who  have  follow  you  —  but  with 
out  a  word  —  without  a  —  a  —  thanks  — 
without  a  'ope !  Ah !  —  we  have  ser-rved 
you  —  me  and  my  sister ;  we  are  the  or- 
range  dry  —  now  we  can  go  !  Like  the  old 
shoe,  we  are  to  be  flung  away !  Good !  But 
I  am  here  again  —  you  see.  I  shall  speak, 
and  you  shall  hear-r." 

Don  Caesar's  voice  —  alone  with  her ! 
Paul  gripped  his  chair  and  sat  upright. 

"  Stop !  Stay  where  you  are  !  How 
dared  you  return  here  ?  "  It  was  Yerba's 
voice,  on  the  balcony,  low  and  distinct. 

"  Shut  the  window  !  I  shall  speak  with 
you  what  you  will  not  the  world  to  hear." 

"  I  prefer  to  keep  where  I  am,  since  you 
have  crept  into  this  room  like  a  thief !  " 

"A  thief!  Good!"  He  broke  out  in 
Spanish,  and,  as  if  no  longer  fearful  of  be 
ing  overheard,  had  evidently  drawn  nearer 
to  the  window.  "  A  thief.  Ha  !  muy  bueno 
-  but  it  is  not  /,  you  understand  —  I, 
Csesar  Briones,  who  am  the  thief  !  No  !  It 
is  that  swaggering  espadachin  —  that  fan- 
farron  of  a  Colonel  Pendleton  —  that  pat 
tern  of  an  official,  Mr.  Hathaway  —  that 
most  beautiful  heiress  of  the  Californias, 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      201 

Miss  Arguello  —  that  are  thieves  !  Yes  — 
of  a  name,  —  Miss  Arguello  —  of  a  name! 
The  name  of  Arguello  !  " 

Paul  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Ah,  so !  You  start  —  you  turn  pale  — 
you  flash  your  eyes,  senora,  but  you  think 
you  have  deceived  me  all  these  years.  You 
think  I  did  not  see  your  game  at  Rosario  — 
yes,  even  when  that  foolish  Castro  mucka- 
cha  first  put  that  idea  in  your  head.  Who 
furnished  you  the  facts  you  wanted  ?  I  - 
Mother  of  God  !  such  facts  I  —  I,  who  knew 
the  Arguello  pedigree  —  I,  who  know  it  was 
as  impossible  for  you  to  be  a  daughter  of 
them  as  —  what  ?  let  me  think  —  as  —  as  it 
is  impossible  for  you  to  be  the  wife  of  that 
baron  whom  you  would  deceive  with  the 
rest !  Ah,  yes ;  it  was  a  high  flight  for  you, 
Mees  —  Mees  —  Dona  Fulana  —  a  noble 
game  for  you  to  bring  down !  " 

Why  did  she  not  speak  ?  What  was  she 
doing?  If  she  had  but  uttered  a  single 
word  of  protest,  of  angry  dismissal,  Paul 
would  have  flown  to  her  side.  It  could  not 
be  the  paralysis  of  personal  fear:  the  bal 
cony  was  wide ;  she  could  easily  pass  to  the 
end ;  she  could  even  see  his  open  window. 

"  Why  did  I  do  this  ?     Because  I  loved 


202   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

you,  senora  —  and  you  knew  it !  Ah !  you 
can  turn  your  face  away  now  ;  you  can  pre 
tend  to  misunderstand  me,  as  you  did  a  mo 
ment  ago ;  you  can  part  from  me  now  like  a 
mere  acquaintance  —  but  it  was  not  always 
so !  No,  it  was  you  who  brought  me  here ; 
your  eyes  that  smiled  into  mine  —  and  drove 
home  the  colonel's  request  that  I  and  my 
sister  should  accompany  you.  God  !  I  was 
weak  then  !  You  smile,  senora ;  you  think 
you  have  succeeded — you  and  your  pom 
pous  colonel  and  your  clever  governor! 
You  think  you  have  compromised  me,  and 
perjured  me,  because  of  this.  You  are 
wrong !  You  think  I  dare  not  speak  to  this 
puppet  of  a  baron,  and  that  I  have  no 
proofs.  You  are  wrong  !  " 

"  And  even  if  you  can  produce  them, 
what  care  I?"  said  Yerba  unexpectedly, 
yet  in  a  voice  so  free  from  excitement  and 
passion  that  the  weariness  which  Paul  had 
at  first  noticed  seemed  to  be  the  only  domi 
nant  tone.  "  Suppose  you  prove  that  I  am 
not  an  Arguello.  Good !  you  have  yet  to 
show  that  a  connection  with  any  of  your 
race  would  be  anything  but  a  disgrace." 

"  Ah  !  you  defy  me,  little  one !  Caramba  I 
Listen,  then  !  You  do  not  know  all !  When 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE.      203 

you  thought  I  was  only  helping  you  to  fab 
ricate  your  claim  to  the  Arguellos'  name, 
I  was  finding  out  who  you  really  were ! 
Ah !  It  was  not  so  difficult  as  you  fondly 
hope,  sefiora.  We  were  not  all  brutes  and 
fools  in  the  early  days,  though  we  stood 
aside  to  let  your  people  run  their  vulgar 
course.  It  was  your  hired  bully  —  your  re 
spected  guardian  —  this  dog  of  an  espada- 
chin,  who  let  out  a  hint  of  the  secret  —  with 
a  prick  of  his  blade  —  and  a  scandal.  One 
of  my  peon  women  was  a  servant  at  the  con 
vent  when  you  were  a  child,  and  recognized 
the  woman  who  put  you  there  and  came  to 
see  you  as  a  friend.  She  overheard  the 
Mother  Superior  say  it  was  your  mother, 
and  saw  a  necklace  that  was  left  for  you  to 
wear.  Ah  !  you  begin  to  believe !  When 
I  had  put  this  and  that  together  I  found 
that  Pepita  could  not  identify  you  with  the 
child  that  she  had  seen.  But  you,  senora, 
you  yourself  supplied  the  missing  proof! 
Yes  !  you  supplied  it  with  the  necklace  that 
you  wore  that  evening  at  Rosario,  when  you 
wished  to  do  honor  to  this  young  Hathaway 
—  the  guardian  who  had  always  thrown  you 
off  !  Ah !  —  you  now  suspect  why,  perhaps  ! 
It  was  your  mother's  necklace  that  you 


204  A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

wore,  and  you  said  so  !  That  night  I  sent 
the  good  Pepita  to  identify  it ;  to  watch 
through  the  window  from  the  garden  when 
you  were  wearing  it ;  to  make  it  sure  as  the 
Creed.  I  sent  her  to  your  room  late  that 
night  when  you  had  changed  your  dress,  that 
she  might  examine  it  among  your  jewels. 
And  she  did  and  will  swear  —  look  you  !  — 
swear  that  it  is  the  one  given  you  as  a  child 
by  the  woman  at  the  convent,  who  was  your 
mother !  And  who  was  that  woman  —  eh  ? 
Who  was  the  mother  of  the  Arguello  de  la 
Yerba  Buena?  —  who  this  noble  ances 
tress?" 

"Excuse  me  —  but  perhaps  you  are  not 
aware  that  you  are  raising  your  voice  in  a 
lady's  drawing-room,  and  that  although  you 
are  speaking  a  language  no  one  here  under 
stands,  you  are  disturbing  the  hotel." 

It  was  Paul,  quiet,  pale  in  the  moonlight, 
erect  on  the  balcony  before  the  window.  As 
Yerba,  with  a  start,  retreated  quickly  into 
the  room,  Don  CaBsar  stepped  forward  an 
grily  and  suspiciously  towards  the  window. 
He  had  his  hand  reached  forward  towards 
the  handle  as  if  to  close  the  swinging  sash 
against  the  intruder,  when  in  an  instant  he 
was  seized  by  Paul,  tightly  locked  in  a  des- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   205 

perate  grip,  and  whirled  out  on  the  balcony. 
Before  he  could  gain  breath  to  utter  a  cry, 
Hathaway  had  passed  his  right  arm  around 
the  Mexican's  throat,  effectively  stopping 
his  utterance,  and,  with  a  supreme  effort  of 
strength,  dragged  him  along  the  wall,  fall 
ing  with  him  into  the  open  window  of  his 
own  room.  As  he  did  so,  to  his  inexpres 
sible  relief  he  heard  the  sash  closed  and  the 
bolt  drawn  of  the  salon  window,  and  re 
gained  his  feet,  collected,  quiet,  and  trium 
phant. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  coolly  dusting  his 
clothes,  "  to  have  been  obliged  to  change 
the  scene  of  this  discussion  so  roughly,  but 
you  will  observe  that  you  can  speak  more 
freely  here,  and  that  any  altercation  we  may 
have  in  this  room  will  be  less  likely  to  at 
tract  comment." 

"  Assassin  !  "  said  Don  Cassar  chokingly, 
as  he  struggled  to  his  feet. 

"Thank  you.  Relieve  your  feelings  as 
much  as  you  like  here ;  in  fact,  if  you  would 
speak  a  little  louder  you  would  oblige  me. 
The  guests  are  beginning  to  be  awake,"  con 
tinued  Paul,  with  a  wicked  smile,  indicat 
ing  the  noise  of  an  opening  door  and  foot 
steps  in  the  passage,  "  and  are  now  able  to 


206  A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

locate  without  difficulty  the  scene  of  the  dis 
turbance." 

Briones  apparently  understood  his  mean 
ing  and  the  success  of  his  stratagem.  "  You 
think  you  have  saved  her  from  disgrace," 
he  said,  with  a  livid  smile,  in  a  lower  tone 
and  a  desperate  attempt  to  imitate  Paul's 
coolness.  "  For  the  present  —  ah  —  yees  ! 
perhaps  in  this  hotel  and  this  evening.  But 
you  have  not  stop  my  mouth  for  —  a  —  to 
morrow —  and  the  whole  world,  Mr.  Hath 
away." 

"  Well,"  said  Paul,  looking  at  him  criti 
cally,  "  I  don't  know  about  that.  Of  course, 
there 's  the  equal  chance  that  you  may  kill 
me  —  but  that's  a  question  for  to-morrow, 
too." 

The  Mexican  cast  a  quick  glance  at  the 
door  and  window.  Paul,  as  if  carelessly, 
changed  the  key  of  the  former  from  one 
pocket  to  the  other,  and  stepped  before  the 
window. 

"  So  this  is  a  plot  to  murder  me  !  Have 
a  care  I  You  are  not  in  your  own  brigand 
California ! " 

"  If  you  think  so,  alarm  the  house.  They 
will  find  us  quarreling,  and  you  will  only 
precipitate  matters  by  receiving  the  insult 
that  will  make  you  fight  —  before  them." 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      207 

"  I  am  r-ready,  sir,  when  and  where  you 
will,"  said  Briones,  with  a  swaggering  air 
but  a  shifting,  furtive  eye.  "  Open  —  a  — 
the  door." 

"  Pardon  me.  We  will  leave  this  room 
together  in  an  hour  for  the  station.  We 
will  board  the  night  express  that  will  take 
us  in  three  hours  beyond  the  frontier,  where 
we  can  each  find  a  friend." 

"But  my  affairs  here  —  my  sister  —  I  must 
see  her." 

"  You  shall  write  a  note  to  her  at  that 
table,  saying  that  important  business  —  a 
dispatch  —  has  called  you  away,  and  we 
will  leave  it  with  the  porter  to  be  delivered 
in  the  morning.  Or  —  I  do  not  restrict  you 
—  you  can  say  what  you  like,  provided  she 
don't  get  it  until  we  have  left." 

"  And  you  make  of  me  a  prisoner,  sir  ?  " 

"  No  ;  a  visitor,  Don  Caesar  —  a  visitor 
whose  conversation  is  so  interesting  that  I 
am  forced  to  detain  him  to  hear  more.  You 
can  pass  the  time  pleasantly  by  finishing 
the  story  I  was  obliged  to  interrupt  a  mo 
ment  ago.  Do  you  know  this  mother  of 
Miss  Yerba,  of  whom  you  spoke?  " 

"  That 's  m  —  my  affair." 

"That   means  you   don't   know  her.     If 


208   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

you  did,  you'd  have  had  her  within  call. 
And,  as  she  is  the  only  person  who  is  able 
to  say  that  Miss  Yerba  is  not  an  Arguello, 
you  have  been  very  remiss." 

"  Ah,  bah  !  I  am  not  one  of  your  —  a  — 
lawyers." 

"No;  or  you  would  know  that,  with  no 
better  evidence  than  you  have,  you  might  be 
sued  for  slander." 

"  Ah  !  Why  does  not  Miss  Yerba  sue, 
then  ?  " 

"  Because  she  probably  expects  that  some 
body  will  shoot  you." 

"  As  you  for  instance  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  And  if  you  do  not  —  eh  ?  —  you  have 
not  stop  my  mouth,  but  your  own.  And  if 
you  do,  you  help  her  to  marry  the  Baron, 
your  rival.  You  are  not  wise,  friend  Hath 
away." 

44  May  I  remind  you  that  you  have  not 
yet  written  to  your  sister,  and  you  may  pre 
fer  to  do  it  carefully  and  deliberately  ?  " 

Don  Caesar  arose  with  a  vindictive  glance 
at  Paul,  and  pulled  a  chair  before  the  table, 
as  the  latter  placed  pen,  ink,  and  paper  be 
fore  him.  "Take  your  time,"  he  added, 
folding  his  arms  and  walking  towards  the 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      209 

window.  "  Say  what  you  like,  and  don't  let 
my  presence  restrain  you." 

The  Mexican  began  to  write  furiously, 
then  spasmodically,  then  slowly  and  reluc 
tantly.  "  I  war-r-n  you,  I  shall  expose  all," 
he  said  suddenly. 

"  As  you  please." 

"  And  shall  say  that  if  I  disappear,  you 
are  my  murderer  —  you  understand  —  my 
murderer  /" 

"  Don't  consult  me  on  a  question  of  epi 
thets,  but  go  on." 

Don  Caesar  recommenced  his  writing  with 
a  malign  smile.  There  was  a  sudden  sharp 
rap  at  the  door. 

Don  Caesar  leaped  to  his  feet,  grasped  his 
papers,  and  rushed  to  the  door;  but  Paul 
was  before  him.  "Who  is  there?"  he  de 
manded. 

"  Pendleton." 

At  the  sound  of  the  colonel's  voice  Don 
Caesar  fell  back.  Paul  opened  the  door,  ad 
mitted  the  tall  figure  of  the  colonel,  and 
was  about  to  turn  the  key  again.  But  Pen 
dleton  lifted  his  hand  in  grim  deprecation, 

"That  will  do,  Mr.  Hathaway.  I  know 
all.  But  I  wish  to  speak  with  Briones  else 
where,  alone." 


210      A   WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  Excuse  me,  Colonel  Pendleton,"  said 
Paul  firmly,  "  but  I  have  the  prior  claim. 
Words  have  passed  between  this  gentleman 
and  myself  which  we  are  now  on  our  way  to 
the  station  and  the  frontier  to  settle.  If 
you  are  willing  to  accompany  us,  I  shall 
give  you  every  opportunity  to  converse  with 
him  alone,  and  arrange  whatever  business 
you  may  have  with  him,  provided  it  does 
not  interfere  with  mine." 

"  My  business,"  said  Pendleton,  "  is  of  a 
personal  nature,  that  will  not  interfere  with 
any  claim  of  yours  that  Mr.  Briones  may 
choose  to  admit,  but  is  of  a  private  quality 
that  must  be  transacted  between  us  now." 
His  face  was  pale,  and  his  voice,  although 
steady  and  self -controlled,  had  that  same 
strange  suggestion  of  sudden  age  in  it  which 
Paul  had  before  noticed.  Whether  Don 
Caesar  detected  it,  or  whether  he  had  some 
other  instinctive  appreciation  of  greater  se 
curity,  Paul  could  not  tell.  He  seemed  to 
recover  his  swagger  again,  as  he  said,  — 

"  I  shall  hear  what  Colonel  Pendleton  has 
to  say  first.  But  I  shall  hold  myself  in 
readiness  to  meet  you  afterwards  —  you 
shall  not  fear,  sir  !  " 

Paul  remained  looking  from  the  one  to 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   211 

the  other  without  speaking.  It  was  Don 
Caesar  who  returned  his  glance  boldly  and 
defiantly,  Colonel  Pendleton  who,  with  thin 
white  fingers  pulling  his  moustache,  evaded 
it.  Then  Paul  unlocked  the  door,  and  said 
slowly,  "  In  five  minutes  I  leave  this  house 
for  the  station.  I  shall  wait  there  until  the 
train  arrives.  If  this  gentleman  does  not 
join  me,  I  shall  be  better  able  to  understand 
all  this  and  take  measures  accordingly." 

"And  I  tell  to  you,  Meester  Hathaway, 
sir,"  said  Don  Caesar,  striking  an  attitude 
in  the  doorway,  "  you  shall  do  as  I  please  — 
Oaramba  !  —  and  shall  beg  "  — 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir  —  or,  by  the 
Eternal !  "  —  burst  out  Pendleton  suddenly, 
bringing  down  his  thin  hand  on  the  Mexi 
can's  shoulder.  He  stopped  as  suddenly. 
"  Gentlemen,  this  is  childish.  Go,  sir  !  " 
to  Don  Caesar,  pointing  with  a  gaunt  white 
finger  into  the  darkened  hall.  "  I  will  fol 
low  you.  Mr.  Hathaway,  as  an  older  man, 
and  one  who  has  seen  a  good  deal  of  foolish 
altercation,  I  regret,  sir,  deeply  regret,  to 
be  a  witness  to  this  belligerent  quality  in  a 
law-maker  and  a  public  man  ;  and  I  must 
deprecate,  sir  —  deprecate,  your  demand  on 
that  gentleman  for  what,  in  the  folly  of 


212      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE. 

youth,  you  are  pleased  to  call  personal  satis 
faction." 

As  he  moved  with  dignity  out  of  the 
room,  Paul  remained  blankly  staring  after 
him.  Was  it  all  a  dream  ?  —  or  was  this 
Colonel  Pendleton  the  duelist?  Had  the 
old  man  gone  crazy,  or  was  he  merely  acting 
to  veil  some  wild  purpose  ?  His  sudden  ar 
rival  showed  that  Yerba  must  have  sent  for 
him  and  told  him  of  Don  Csesar's  threats ; 
would  he  be  wild  enough  to  attempt  to 
strangle  the  man  in  some  remote  room  or  in 
the  darkness  of  the  passage?  He  stepped 
softly  into  the  hall :  he  could  still  hear  the 
double  tread  of  the  two  men :  they  had 
reached  the  staircase  —  they  were  descend 
ing  !  He  heard  the  drowsy  accents  of  the 
night  porter  and  the  swinging  of  the  door  — 
they  were  in  the  street ! 

Wherever  they  were  going,  or  for  what 
purpose,  he  must  be  at  the  station,  as  he 
had  warned  them  he  would  be.  He  hastily 
threw  a  few  things  into  his  valise,  and  pre 
pared  to  follow  them.  When  he  went  down 
stairs  he  informed  the  porter  that  owing  to 
an  urgent  call  of  business  he  should  try  to 
catch  the  through  express  at  three  o'clock, 
but  they  must  retain  his  room  and  luggage 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   213 

until  they  heard  from  him.  He  remem 
bered  Don  Caesar's  letter.  Had  either  of 
the  gentlemen,  his  friends  who  had  just 
gone  out,  left  a  letter  or  message  ?  No,  Ex 
cellency  ;  the  gentlemen  were  talking  ear 
nestly  —  he  believed,  in  the  South  American 
language  —  and  had  not  spoken  to  him. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  that  reminded  Paul, 
as  he  crossed  the  square  again,  that  he  had 
made  no  preparation  for  any  possible  fatal 
issue  to  himself  in  this  adventure.  She 
would  know  it,  however,  and  why  he  had 
undertaken  it.  He  tried  to  think  that  per 
haps  some  interest  in  himself  had  prompted 
her  to  send  the  colonel  to  him.  Yet,  min 
gled  with  this  was  an  odd  sense  of  a  certain 
ridiculousness  in  his  position :  there  was  the 
absurdity  of  his  prospective  antagonist  be 
ing  even  now  in  confidential  consultation 
with  his  own  friend  and  ally,  whose  func 
tions  he  had  usurped,  and  in  whose  interests 
he  was  about  to  risk  his  life.  And  as  he 
walked  away  through  the  silent  streets,  the 
conviction  more  than  once  was  forced  upon 
him  that  he  was  going  to  an  appointment 
that  would  not  be  kept. 

He  reached  the  station  some  ten  minutes 
before  the  train  was  due.     Two   or  three 


214     A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

half-drowsy,  wrapped-up  passengers  were 
already  on  the  platform ;  but  neither  Don 
Caesar  nor  Colonel  Pendleton  was  among 
them.  He  explored  the  waiting-rooms  and 
even  the  half-lit  buffet,  but  with  no  better 
success.  Telling  the  Bahnliof  Inspector 
that  his  passage  was  only  contingent  upon 
the  arrival  of  one  or  two  companions,  and 
describing  them  minutely  to  prevent  mis 
takes,  he  began  gloomily  to  pace  before  the 
ticket-office.  Five  minutes  passed  —  the 
number  of  passengers  did  not  increase ;  ten 
minutes  ;  a  distant  shriek  —  the  hoarse  in 
quiry  of  the  inspector  —  had  the  Herr's 
companions  yet  gekommt  ?  the  sudden  glare 
of  a  Cyclopean  eye  in  the  darkness,  the  on- 
gliding  of  the  long-jointed  and  gleaming 
spotted  serpent,  the  train  —  a  hurried  glance 
around  the  platform,  one  or  two  guttural 
orders,  the  slamming  of  doors,  the  remount 
ing  of  black  uniformed  figures  like  caryati 
des  along  the  marchepicds,  a  puff  of  vapor, 
and  the  train  had  come  and  gone  without 
them. 

Yet  he  would  give  his  adversary  fifteen 
minutes  more  to  allow  for  accident  or  de 
lay,  or  the  possible  arrival  of  the  colonel 
with  an  explanation,  and  recommenced  his 


A   WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN   GATE.      215 

gloomy  pacing,  as  the  Bahnhof  sank  back 
into  half -lit  repose.  At  the  end  of  five  min 
utes  there  was  another  shriek.  Paul  turned 
quickly  to  the  inspector.  Ah,  then,  there 
was  another  train  ?  No  ;  it  was  only  the  up 
express  for  Basle,  going  the  other  way  and 
stopping  at  the  Nord  Station,  half  a  mile 
away.  It  would  not  stop  here,  but  the  Herr 
would  see  it  pass  in  a  few  moments  at  full 
speed. 

It  came  presently,  with  a  prolonged  de 
spairing  shriek,  out  of  the  darkness ;  a  flash, 
a  rush  and  roar  at  his  side,  a  plunge  into 
the  darkness  again  with  the  same  despairing 
cry ;  a  flutter  of  something  white  from  one 
of  the  windows,  like  a  loosened  curtain,  that 
at  last  seemed  to  detach  itself,  and,  after  a 
wild  attempt  to  follow,  suddenly  soared 
aloft,  whirled  over  and  over,  dropped,  and 
drifted  slowly,  slantwise,  to  the  ground. 

The  inspector  had  seen  it,  ran  down  the 
line,  and  picked  it  up.  Then  he  returned 
with  it  to  Paul  with  a  look  of  sympathizing 
concern.  It  was  a  lady's  handkerchief,  evi 
dently  some  signal  waved  to  the  well-born 
Herr,  who  was  the  only  passenger  on  the 
platform.  So,  possibly,  it  might  be  from 
his  friends,  who  by  some  stupid  mischance 


216       A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

had  gone  to  the  wrong  station,  and  —  Gott 
im  Himmel !  —  it  was  hideously  stupid,  yet 
possible,  got  on  the  wrong  train ! 

The  Herr,  a  little  pale,  but  composed, 
thought  it  was  possible.  No  ;  he  would  not 
telegraph  to  the  next  station  —  not  yet  —  he 
would  inquire. 

He  walked  quickly  away,  reaching  the 
hotel  breathlessly,  yet  in  a  space  that 
seemed  all  too  brief  for  his  disconnected 
thought.  There  were  signs  of  animation  in 
the  hall,  and  an  empty  carriage  was  just 
reentering  the  courtyard.  The  hall-porter 
met  him  with  demonstrative  concern  and 
apology.  Ah !  if  he  had  only  understood 
his  Excellency  better,  he  could  have  saved 
him  all  this  trouble.  Evidently  his  Excel 
lency  was  going  with  the  Arguello  party, 
who  had  ordered  a  carriage,  doubtless,  for 
the  same  important  journey,  an  hour  before, 
yet  had  left  only  a  few  moments  after  his 
Excellency,  and  his  Excellency,  it  would  ap 
pear,  had  gone  to  the  wrong  station. 

Paul  pushed  hurriedly  past  the  man  and 
ascended  to  his  room.  Both  windows  were 
open,  and  in  the  faint  moonlight  he  could 
see  that  something  white  was  pinned  to  his 
pillow.  With  nervous  fingers  he  relit  his 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     217 

candles,  and  found  it  was  a  note  in  Yerba's 
handwriting.  As  he  opened  it,  a  tiny  spray 
of  the  vine  that  had  grown  on  the  crum 
bling  wall  fell  at  his  feet.  He  picked  it  up, 
pressed  it  to  his  lips,  and  read,  with  dim 
eyes,  as  follows  :  — 

You  know  now  why  I  spoke  to  you  as  I 
did  to-day,  and  why  the  other  half  of  this 
precious  spray  is  the  only  memory  I  care  to 
carry  with  me  out  of  this  crumbling  ruin  of 
all  my  hopes.  You  were  right,  Paul:  my 
taking  you  there  was  an  omen  —  not  to  you, 
who  can  never  be  anything  but  proud,  be 
loved,  and  true  —  but  to  me  of  all  the  shame 
and  misery.  Thank  you  for  all  you  have 
done  —  for  all  you  would  do,  my  friend,  and 
don't  think  me  ungrateful,  only  because  I 
am  unworthy  of  it.  Try  to  forgive  me,  but 
don't  forget  me,  even  if  you  must  hate  me. 
Perhaps,  if  you  knew  all  —  you  might  still 
love  a  little  the  poor  girl  to  whom  you  have 
already  given  the  only  name  she  can  ever 
take  from  you  —  YERBA  BUENA  ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IT  was  already  autumn,  and  in  the  city  of 
New  York  an  early  Sunday  morning  breeze 
was  sweeping  up  the  leaves  that  had  fallen 
from  the  regularly  planted  ailantus  trees 
before  the  brown -stone  frontage  of  a  row 
of  monotonously  alike  five-storied  houses  on 
one  of  the  principal  avenues.  The  Pastor 
of  the  Third  Presbyterian  Church,  that 
uplifted  its  double  towers  on  the  corner, 
stopped  before  one  of  these  dwellings,  ran 
up  the  dozen  broad  steps,  and  rang  the  bell. 
He  was  presently  admittted  to  the  sombre 
richness  of  a  hall  and  drawing-room  with 
high-backed  furniture  of  dark  carved  woods, 
like  cathedral  stalls,  and,  hat  in  hand,  some 
what  impatiently  awaited  the  arrival  of  his 
hostess  and  parishioner.  The  door  opened 
to  a  tall,  white-haired  woman  in  lustreless 
black  silk.  She  was  regular  and  resolute 
in  features,  of  fine  but  unbending  presence, 
and,  though  somewhat  past  middle  age, 
showed  no  signs  of  either  the  weakness  or 
mellowness  of  years. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   219 

"I  am  sorry  to  disturb  your  Sabbath 
morning  meditations,  Sister  Argalls,  nor 
would  I  if  it  were  not  in  the  line  of  Chris 
tian  duty ;  but  Sister  Robbins  is  unable  to 
day  to  make  her  usual  Sabbath  hospital 
visit,  and  I  thought  if  you  were  excused 
from  the  Foreign  Missionary  class  and  Bible 
instruction  at  three  you  might  undertake 
her  functions.  I  know,  my  dear  old  friend," 
he  continued,  with  bland  deprecation  of  her 
hard-set  eyes,  "  how  distasteful  this  promis 
cuous  mingling  with  the  rough  and  ungodly 
has  always  been  to  you,  and  how  reluctant 
you  are  to  be  placed  in  the  position  of  be 
ing  liable  to  hear  coarse,  vulgar,  or  irrev 
erent  speech.  I  think,  too,  in  our  long  and 
pleasant  pastoral  relations,  you  have  always 
found  me  mindful  of  it.  I  admit  I  have 
sometimes  regretted  that  your  late  husband 
had  not  more  generally  familiarized  you 
with  the  ways  of  the  world.  But  so  it  is  — 
we  all  have  our  weaknesses.  If  not  one 
thing,  another.  And  as  Envy  and  Unchari- 
tableness  sometimes  find  their  way  in  even 
Christian  hearts,  I  should  like  you  to  under 
take  this  office  for  the  sake  of  example. 
There  are  some,  dear  Sister  Argalls,  who 
think  that  the  rich  widow  who  is  most  lib- 


220     A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

eral  in  the  endowment  of  the  goods  that 
Providence  has  intrusted  to  her  hands  claims 
therefore  to  be  exempt  from  labor  in  the 
Christian  vineyard.  Let  us  teach  them  how 
unjust  they  are." 

"  I  am  willing,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  dry, 
determined  air.  "I  suppose  these  patients 
are  not  professedly  bad  characters  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  A  few,  perhaps  ;  but  the 
majority  are  unfortunates  —  dependent  either 
upon  public  charity  or  some  small  provision 
made  by  their  friends." 

"  Very  well." 

"And  you  understand  that  though  they 
have  the  privilege  of  rejecting  your  Christian 
ministrations,  dear  Sister  Argalls,  you  are 
free  to  judge  when  you  may  be  patient  or 
importunate  with  them  ?  " 

"  I  understand." 

The  Pastor  was  not  an  unkindly  man, 
and,  as  he  glanced  at  the  uncompromising 
look  in  Mrs.  Argalls's  eyes,  felt  for  a  mo 
ment  some  inconsistency  between  his  hu 
mane  instincts  and  his  Christian  duty. 
u  Some  of  them  may  require,  and  be  bene 
fited  by,  a  stern  monitress,  and  Sister  Rob- 
bins,  I  fear,  was  weak,"  he  said  consolingly 
to  himself,  as  he  descended  the  steps  again. 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.    221 

At  three  o'clock  Mrs.  Argalls,  with  a 
reticule  and  a  few  tracts,  was  at  the  door  of 
St.  John's  Hospital.  As  she  displayed  her 
testimonials  and  announced  that  she  had 
taken  Mrs.  Robbins's  place,  the  officials  re 
ceived  her  respectfully,  and  gave  some  in 
structions  to  the  attendants,  which,  however, 
did  not  stop  some  individual  comments. 

"  I  say,  Jim,  it  does  n't  seem  the  square 
thing  to  let  that  grim  old  girl  loose  among 
them  poor  convalescents." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know :  they  say  she 's 
rich  and  gives  a  lot  o'  money  away,  but  if 
she  tackles  that  swearing  old  Kentuckian  in 
No.  3,  she  '11  have  her  hands  full." 

However,  the  criticism  was  scarcely  fair, 
for  Mrs.  Argalls,  although  moving  rigidly 
along  from  bed  to  bed  of  the  ward,  equipped 
with  a  certain  formula  of  phrases,  neverthe 
less  dropped  from  time  to  time  some  practi 
cal  common-sense  questions  that  showed  an 
almost  masculine  intuition  of  the  patients' 
needs  and  requirements.  Nor  did  she  be 
tray  any  of  that  over-sensitive  shrinking 
from  coarseness  which  the  good  Pastor  had 
feared,  albeit  she  was  quick  to  correct  its 
exhibition.  The  languid  men  listened  to 
her  with  half-aggressive,  half-amused  inter- 


222   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

est,  and  some  of  the  satisfaction  of  taking  a 
bitter  but  wholesome  tonic.  It  was  not  un 
til  she  reached  the  bed  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  ward  that  she  seemed  to  meet  with  any 
check. 

It  was  occupied  by  a  haggard  man,  with 
a  long  white  moustache  and  features  that 
seemed  wasted  by  inward  struggle  and  fever. 
At  the  first  sound  of  her  voice  he  turned 
quickly  towards  her,  lifted  himself  on  his 
elbow,  and  gazed  fixedly  in  her  face. 

"  Kate  Howard  —  by  the  Eternal !  "  he 
said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Despite  her  rigid  self-possession  the  wo 
man  started,  glanced  hurriedly  around,  and 
drew  nearer  to  him. 

"  Pendleton ! "  she  said,  in  an  equally 
suppressed  voice.  "  What,  in  God's  name, 
are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Dying,  I  reckon  —  sooner  or  later,"  he 
said  grimly,  "  that 's  what  they  do  here." 

"  But  —  what,"  she  went  on  hurriedly, 
still  glancing  oVer  her  shoulder  as  if  she 
suspected  some  trick  —  "  what  has  brought 
you  to  this?" 

"  You  !  "  said  the  colonel,  dropping  back 
exhaustedly  on  his  pillow.  "  You  and  your 
daughter." 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.  223 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  she  said 
quickly,  yet  regarding  him  with  stern  rigid 
ity.  "  You  know  perfectly  well  I  have  no 
daughter.  You  know  perfectly  well  that 
I  've  kept  the  word  I  gave  you  ten  years 
ago,  and  that  I  have  been  dead  to  her  as 
she  has  been  to  me." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  colonel,  "  that  within 
the  last  three  months  I  have  paid  away  my 
last  cent  to  keep  the  mouth  of  an  infernal 
scoundrel  shut  who  knows  that  you  are  her 
mother,  and  threatens  to  expose  her  to  her 
friends.  I  know  that  I  'm  dying  here  of 
an  old  wound  that  I  got  when  I  shut  the 
mouth  of  another  hound  who  was  ready  to 
bark  at  her  two  years  after  you  disappeared. 
I  know  that  between  you  and  her  I  've  let 
my  old  nigger  die  of  a  broken  heart,  because 
I  could  n't  keep  him  to  suffer  with  me,  and 
I  know  that  I  'm  here  a  pauper  on  the 
State.  I  know  that,  Kate,  and  when  I  say 
it  I  don't  regret  it.  I  Ve  kept  my  word  to 
you,  and,  by  the  Eternal,  your  daughter's 
worth  it !  For  if  there  ever  was  a  fair  and 
peerless  creature  —  it 's  your  child  !  " 

"And  she  —  a  rich  woman  —  unless  she 
squandered  the  fortune  I  gave  her  —  lets 
you  lie  here  !  "  said  the  woman  grimly. 


224   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  She  don't  know  it." 

"  She  should  know  it !  Have  you  quar 
reled  ?  "  She  was  looking  at  him  keenly. 

"She  distrusts  me,  because  she  half  sus 
pects  the  secret,  and  I  had  n't  the  heart  to 
tell  her  all." 

"All?  What  does  she  know?  What 
does  this  man  know  ?  What  has  been  told 
her  ?  "  she  said  rapidly. 

"  She  only  knows  that  the  name  she  has 
taken  she  has  no  right  to." 

"  Right  to  ?  Why,  it  was  written  on  the 
Trust  — Yerba  Buena." 

"No,  not  that.  She  thought  it  was  a 
mistake.  She  took  the  name  of  Arguello." 

"What?"  said  Mrs.  Argalls,  suddenly 
grasping  the  invalid's  wrist  with  both  hands. 
"  What  name  ?  "  Her  eyes  were  startled 
from  their  rigid  coldness,  her  lips  were  col 
orless.  •  jr 

"Arguello!  It  was  some  foolish  school 
girl  fancy  which  that  hound  helped  to  foster 
in  her.  Why  —  what 's  the  matter,  Kate  ?  " 

The  woman  dropped  the  helpless  man's 
wrist,  then,  with  an  effort,  recovered  herself 
sufficiently  to  rise,  and,  with  an  air  of  in 
creased  decorum,  as  if  the  spiritual  charac 
ter  of  their  interview  excluded  worldly  in- 


A    WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.     225 

trusion,  adjusted  the  screen  around  his  bed, 
so  as  partly  to  hide  her  own  face  and  Pendle- 
ton's.  Then,  dropping  into  the  chair  beside 
him,  she  said,  in  her  old  voice,  from  which 
the  burden  of  ten  long  years  seemed  to  have 
been  lifted,  — 

44  Harry,  what 's  that  you  're  playing  on 
me?" 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Pendleton 
amazedly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  don't  know  it, 
and  did  n't  tell  her  yourself  ? "  she  said 
curtly. 

"What?  Tell  her  what?"  he  repeated 
impatiently. 

"  That  Arguello  was  her  father !  " 

"Her  father?"  He  tried  to  struggle  to 
his  elbow  again,  but  she  laid  her  hand  mas 
terfully  upon  his  shoulder  and  forced  him 
back.  "  Her  father ! "  he  repeated  hur 
riedly.  "  Jose  Arguello  !  Great  God  !  — 
are  you  sure  ?  " 

Quietly  and  yet  mechanically  gathering 
the  scattered  tracts  from  the  coverlet,  and 
putting  them  back,  one  by  one  in  her  reti 
cule,  she  closed  it  and  her  lips  with  a  snap 
as  she  uttered  —  "  Yes." 

Pendleton    remained    staring    at    her   si- 


226      A    WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

lently,  "  Yes,"  he  muttered,  "  it  may  have 
been  some  instinct  of  the  child's,  or  some 
diabolical  fancy  of  Briones'.  But,"  he  said 
bitterly,  "  true  or  not,  she  has  no  right  to 
his  name." 

" And  I  say  she  has" 

She  had  risen  to  her  feet,  with  her  arms 
folded  across  her  breast,  in  an  attitude  of 
such  Puritan  composure  that  the  distant 
spectators  might  have  thought  she  was  de 
livering  an  exordium  to  the  prostrate  man. 

"I  met  Jose  Arguello,  for  the  second 
time,  in  New  Orleans,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  eight  years  ago.  He  was  still  rich,  but 
ruined  in  health  by  dissipation.  I  was  tired 
of  my  way  of  life.  He  proposed  that  I 
should  marry  him  to  take  care  of  him  and 
legitimatize  our  child.  I  was  forced  to  tell 
him  what  I  had  done  with  her,  and  that 
the  Trust  could  not  be  disturbed  until  she 
was  of  age  and  her  own  mistress.  He  as 
sented.  We  married,  but  he  died  within  a 
year.  He  died,  leaving  with  me  his  acknow 
ledgment  of  her  as  his  child,  and  the  right 
to  claim  her  if  I  chose." 

"  And  ?  "  —  interrupted  the  colonel  with 
sparkling  eyes. 

"  /  don't  choose. 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   227 

"  Hear  me !  "  she  continued  firmly.  "  With 
his  name  and  my  own  mistress,  and  the  girl, 
as  I  believed,  properly  provided  for  and  ig. 
norant  of  my  existence,  I  saw  no  necessity 
for  reopening  the  past.  I  resolved  to  lead  a 
new  life  as  his  widow.  I  came  north.  In 
the  little  New  England  town  where  I  first 
stopped,  the  country  people  contracted  my 
name  to  Mrs.  Argalls.  I  let  it  stand  so.  I 
came  to  New  York  and  entered  the  service 
of  the  Lord  and  the  bonds  of  the  Church, 
Henry  Pendleton,  as  Mrs.  Argalls,  and  have 
remained  so  ever  since." 

"  But  you  would  not  object  to  Yerba 
knowing  that  you  lived,  and  rightly  bore  her 
father's  name  ?  "  said  Pendleton  eagerly. 

The  woman  looked  at  him  with  com 
pressed  lips.  "  I  should.  I  have  buried  all 
my  past,  and  all  its  consequences.  Let  me 
not  seek  to  reopen  it  or  recall  them." 

"  But  if  you  knew  that  she  was  as  proud 
as  yourself,  and  that  this  very  uncertainty 
as  to  her  name  and  parentage,  although  she 
has  never  known  the  whole  truth,  kept  her 
from  taking  the  name  and  becoming  the 
wife  of  a  man  whom  she  loves  ?  " 

"Whom  she  loves!" 

"  Yes ;  one  of  her  guardians  —  Hathaway 


228      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

—  to  whom  you  intrusted  her  when  she  was 
a  child." 

"  Paul  Hathaway  —  but  he  knew  it." 

"  Yes.  But  she  does  not  know  he  does. 
He  has  kept  the  secret  faithfully,  even  when 
she  refused  him." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  — 

"  So  be  it.     I  consent." 

"  And  you  '11  write  to  her  ?  "  said  the 
colonel  eagerly. 

"  No.  But  you  may,  and  if  you  want 
them  I  will  furnish  you  with  such  proofs  as 
you  may  require." 

"Thank  you."  He  held  out  his  hand 
with  such  a  happy  yet  childish  gratitude 
upon  his  worn  face  that  her  own  trembled 
slightly  as  she  took  it.  "  Good-by  !  " 

"  I  shall  see  you  soon,"  she  said. 

"  I  shall  be  here,"  He  said  grimly. 

"  I  think  not,"  she  returned,  with  the  first 
relaxation  of  her  smileless  face,  and  moved 
away. 

As  she  passed  out  she  asked  to  see  the 
house  surgeon.  How  soon  did  he  think  the 
patient  she  had  been  conversing  with  could 
be  removed  from  the  hospital  with  safety  ? 
Did  Mrs.  Argalls  mean  "far?"  Mrs.  Ar- 


A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.   229 

galls  meant  as  far  as  that  —  tendering  her 
card  and  eminently  respectable  address. 
Ah  !  —  perhaps  in  a  week.  Not  before  ? 
Perhaps  before,  unless  complications  en 
sued  ;  the  patient  had  been  much  run  down 
physically,  though,  as  Mrs.  Argalls  had 
probably  noticed,  he  was  singularly  strong 
in  nervous  will  force.  Mrs.  Argalls  had 
noticed  it,  and  considered  it  an  extraordi 
nary  case  of  conviction  —  worthy  of  the 
closest  watching  and  care.  When  he  was 
able  to  be  moved  she  would  send  her  own 
carriage  and  her  own  physician  to  superin 
tend  his  transfer.  In  the  mean  time  he  was 
to  want  for  nothing.  Certainly,  he  had 
given  very  little  trouble,  and,  in  fact,  wanted 
very  little.  Just  now  he  had  only  asked  for 
paper,  pens,  and  ink. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

As  Mrs.  Argalls's  carriage  rolled  into 
Fifth  Avenue,  it  for  a  moment  narrowly 
grazed  another  carriage,  loaded  with  lug 
gage,  driving  up  to  a  hotel.  The  abstracted 
traveler  within  it  was  Paul  Hathaway,  who 
had  returned  from  Europe  that  morning. 

Paul  entered  the  hotel,  and,  going  to  the 
register  mechanically,  turned  its  leaves  for 
the  previous  arrivals,  with  the  same  hope 
less  patience  that  had  for  the  last  six  weeks 
accompanied  this  habitual  preliminary  per 
formance  on  his  arrival  at  the  principal  Eu 
ropean  hotels.  For  he  had  lost  all  trace  of 
Yerba,  Pendleton,  Milly,  and  the  Briones 
from  the  day  of  their  departure.  The  en 
tire  party  seemed  to  have  separated  at 
Basle,  and,  in  that  eight-hours'  start  they 
had  of  him,  to  have  disappeared  to  the  four 
cardinal  points.  He  had  lingered  a  few 
days  in  London  to  transact  some  business ; 
he  would  linger  a  few  days  longer  in  New 
York  before  returning  to  San  Francisco. 


A  WARD    OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      231 

The  daily  papers  already  contained  his 
name  in  the  list  of  the  steamer  passengers 
who  arrived  that  morning.  It  might  meet 
her  eye,  although  he  had  been  haunted  dur 
ing  the  voyage  by  a  terrible  fancy  that  she 
was  still  in  Europe,  and  had  either  hidden 
herself  in  some  obscure  provincial  town  with 
the  half-crazy  Pendleton,  or  had  entered  a 
convent,  or  even,  in  reckless  despair,  had 
accepted  the  name  and  title  of  some  penni 
less  nobleman.  It  was  this  miserable  doubt 
that  had  made  his  homeward  journey  at 
times  seem  like  a  cruel  desertion  of  her, 
while  at  other  moments  the  conviction  that 
Milly's  Californian  relatives  might  give  him 
some  clew  to  her  whereabouts  made  him  fe 
verishly  fearful  of  delaying  an  hour  on  his 
way  to  San  Francisco.  He  did  not  believe 
that  she  had  tolerated  the  company  of 
Briones  a  single  moment  after  the  scene  at 
the  Bad  Hof,  and  yet  he  had  no  confidence 
in  the  colonel's  attitude  towards  the  Mexi 
can.  Hopeless  of  the  future  as  her  letter 
seemed,  still  its  naive  and  tacit  confession 
of  her  feelings  at  the  moment  was  all  that 
sustained  him. 

Two  days  passed,  and  he   still  lingered 
aimlessly  in  New  York.     In  two  days  more 


232      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

the  Panama  steamer  would  sail  —  yet  in  his 
hesitation  he  had  put  off  securing  his  pas 
sage.  He  visited  the  offices  of  the  different 
European  steamer  lines,  and  examined  the 
recent  passenger  lists,  but  there  was  no  rec 
ord  of  any  of  the  party.  What  made  his 
quest  seem  the  more  hopeless  was  his  belief 
that,  after  Briones'  revelation,  she  had  cast 
off  the  name  of  Arguello  and  taken  some 
other.  She  might  even  be  in  New  York 
under  that  new  name  now. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  among 
his  letters  was  one  that  bore  the  postmark 
of  a  noted  suburban  settlement  of  wealthy 
villa-owners  on  the  Hudson  River.  It  was 
from  Milly  Woods,  stating  that  her  father 
had  read  of  his  arrival  in  the  papers,  and 
begged  he  would  dine  and  stay  the  next 
night  with  them  at  "  Under  Cliff,"  if  he 
"  still  had  any  interest  in  the  fortunes  of 
old  friends.  Of  course,"  added  the  peren 
nially  incoherent  Milly,  "  if  it  bores  you  we 
sha'n't  expect  you."  The  quick  color  came 
to  Paul's  careworn  cheek.  He  telegraphed 
assent,  and  at  sunset  that  afternoon  stepped 
off  the  train  at  a  little  private  woodland 
station  —  so  abnormally  rustic  and  pictur 
esque  in  its  brown-bark  walls  covered  with 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      233 

scarlet  Virginia  creepers  that  it  looked  like 
a  theatrical  erection. 

Mr.  Woods's  station  wagon  was  in  wait 
ing,  but  Paul,  handing  the  driver  his  valise, 
and  ascertaining  the  general  direction  of 
the  house,  and  that  it  was  not  far  distant, 
told  him  to  go  on  and  he  would  follow 
afoot.  The  tremor  of  vague  anticipation 
had  already  come  upon  him  ;  something  that 
he  knew  not  whether  he  feared  or  longed 
for,  only  that  it  was  inevitable,  had  begun 
to  possess  him.  He  would  soon  recover  him 
self  in  the  flaring  glory  of  this  woodland, 
and  the  invigoration  of  this  hale  October 
air. 

It  was  a  beautiful  and  brilliant  sunset, 
yet  not  so  beautiful  and  brilliant  but  that 
the  whole  opulent  forest  around  him  seemed 
to  challenge  and  repeat  its  richest  as  well  as 
its  most  delicate  dyes.  The  reddening  west, 
seen  through  an  opening  of  scarlet  maples, 
was  no  longer  red ;  the  golden  glory  of  the 
sun,  sinking  over  a  promontory  of  gleaming 
yellow  sumach  that  jutted  out  into  the  noble 
river,  was  shorn  of  its  intense  radiance ;  at 
times  in  the  thickest  woods  he  seemed  sur 
rounded  by  a  yellow  nimbus ;  at  times  so 
luminous  was  the  glow  of  these  translucent 


234   A  WARD  OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

leaves  that  the  position  of  the  sun  itself 
seemed  changed,  or  the  shadows  cast  in  de 
fiance  of  its  glory.  As  he  walked  on,  long 
reaches  of  the  lordly  placid  stream  at  his 
side  were  visible,  as  far  as  the  terraces  of 
the  opposite  shore,  lifted  on  basaltic  col 
umns,  themselves  streaked  and  veined  with 
gold  and  fire.  Paul  had  seen  nothing  like 
this  since  his  boyhood;  for  an  instant  the 
great  heroics  of  the  Sierran  landscape  were 
forgotten  in  this  magnificent  harlequinade. 

A  dim  footpath  crossed  the  road  in  the 
direction  of  the  house,  which  for  the  last 
few  moments  had  been  slowly  etching  itself 
as  a  soft  vignette  in  a  tinted  aureole  of  wal 
nut  and  maple  upon  the  steel  blue  of  the 
river.  He  was  hesitating  whether  to  take 
this  short  cut  or  continue  on  by  the  road, 
when  he  heard  the  rustling  of  quick  foot 
steps  among  the  fallen  leaves  of  the  varie 
gated  thicket  through  which  it  stole.  He 
stopped  short,  the  leafy  screen  shivered  and 
parted,  and  a  tall  graceful  figure,  like  a 
draped  and  hidden  Columbine,  burst  through 
its  painted  foliage.  It  was  Yerba ! 

She  ran  quickly  towards  him,  with  parted 
lips,  shining  eyes,  and  a  few  scarlet  leaves 
clinging  to  the  stnff  of  her  worsted  dress  in 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      235 

a  way  that  recalled  the  pink  petals  of  Ro- 
sario. 

"  When  I  saw  you  were  not  in  the  wagon 
and  knew  you  were  walking  I  slipped  out  to 
intercept  you,  as  I  had  something  to  tell 
you  before  you  saw  the  others.  I  thought 
you  wouldn't  mind."  She  stopped,  and 
suddenly  hesitated. 

What  was  this  new  strange  shyness  that 
seemed  to  droop  her  eyelids,  her  proud  head, 
and  even  the  slim  hand  that  had  been  so 
impulsively  and  frankly  outstretched  to 
wards  him  ?  And  he  —  Paul  —  what  was 
he  doing?  Where  was  this  passionate  out 
burst  that  had  filled  his  heart  for  nights  and 
days?  Where  this  eager  tumultuous  ques 
tioning  that  his  feverish  lips  had  rehearsed 
hour  by  hour  ?  Where  this  desperate  cour 
age  that  would  sweep  the  whole  world  away 
if  it  stood  between  them  ?  Where,  indeed  ? 
He  was  standing  only  a  few  feet  from  her 
—  cold,  silent,  and  tremulous  ! 

She  drew  back  a  step,  lifted  her  head 
with  a  quick  toss  that  seemed  to  condense 
the  moisture  in  her  shining  eyes,  and  sent 
what  might  have  been  a  glittering  dew-drop 
flying  into  the  loosed  tendrils  of  her  hair. 
Calm  and  erect  again,  she  put  her  little 
hand  to  her  jacket  pocket. 


236      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

"  I  only  wanted  you  to  read  a  letter  I  got 
yesterday,"  she  said,  taking  out  an  envel 
ope. 

The  spell  was  broken.  Paul  caught 
eagerly  at  the  hand  that  held  the  letter, 
and  would  have  drawn  her  to  him ;  but  she 
put  him  aside  gravely  but  sweetly. 

"  Kead  that  letter !  " 

"  Tell  me  of  yourself  first ! "  he  broke 
out  passionately.  "  Why  you  fled  from  me, 
and  why  I  now  find  you  here,  by  the  merest 
chance,  without  a  word  of  summons  from 
yourself,  Yerba  ?  Tell  me  who  is  with  you  ? 
Are  you  free  and  your  own  mistress  —  free 
to  act  for  yourself  and  me?  Speak,  dar 
ling —  don't  be  cruel!  Since  that  night  I 
have  longed  for  you,  sought  for  you,  and 
suffered  for  you  every  day  and  hour.  Tell 
me  if  I  find  you  the  same  Yerba  who 
wrote  "  —  * ». 

"  Read  that  letter !  " 

"  I  care  for  none  but  the  one  you  left  me. 
I  have  read  and  reread  it,  Yerba  —  carried 
it  always  with  me.  See !  I  have  it  here  !  " 
He  was  in  the  act  of  withdrawing  it  from 
his  breast-pocket,  when  she  put  up  her  hand 
piteously. 

"Please,  Paul,  please  —  read  this  letter 
first!" 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      237 

There  was  something  in  her  new  suppli 
cating  grace,  still  retaining  the  faintest  sug 
gestion  of  her  old  girlish  archness,  that 
struck  him.  He  took  the  letter  and  opened 
it.  It  was  from  Colonel  Pendleton. 

Plainly,  concisely,  and  formally,  without 
giving  the  name  of  his  authority  or  suggest 
ing  his  interview  with  Mrs.  Argalls,  he  had 
informed  Yerba  that  he  had  documentary 
testimony  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  the 
late  Jose  de  Arguello,  and  legally  entitled 
to  bear  his  name.  A  copy  of  the  instruc 
tions  given  to  his  wife,  recognizing  Yerba 
Buena,  the  ward  of  the  San  Francisco  Trust, 
as  his  child  and  hers,  and  leaving  to  the 
mother  the  choice  of  making  it  known  to 
her  and  others,  was  inclosed. 

Paul  turned  an  unchanged  face  upon 
Yerba,  who  was  watching  him  eagerly,  un 
easily,  almost  breathlessly. 

"  And  you  think  this  concerns  me!"  he 
said  bitterly.  "  You  think  only  of  this, 
when  I  speak  of  the  precious  letter  that 
bade  me  hope,  and  brought  me  to  you  ?  " 

"  Paul,"  said  the  girl,  with  wondering 
eyes  and  hesitating  lips ;  "  do  you  mean  to 
say  that  —  that  —  this  is  —  nothing  to  you?" 

"  Yes  —  but  forgive    me,   darling  !  "    he 


238      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

broke  out  again,  with  a  sudden  vague  re- 
morsefulness,  as  he  once  more  sought  her 
elusive  hand.  "  I  am  a  brute  —  an  egotist ! 
I  forgot  that  it  might  be  something  to  you" 

"  Paul,"  continued  the  girl,  her  voice  quiv 
ering  with  a  strange  joy,  "  do  you  say  that 
you  —  you  yourself,  care  nothing  for  this  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  he  answered,  gazing  at  her 
transfigured  face  with  admiring  wonder. 

"  And  "  —  more  timidly,  as  a  faint  aurora 
kindled  in  her  cheeks  — "  that  you  don't 
care  —  that  —  that  —  I  am  coming  to  you 
with  a  name,  to  give  you  in  —  exchange  ?  " 

He  started. 

"  Yerba,  you  are  not  mocking  me  ?  You 
will  be  my  wife  ?  " 

She  smiled,  yet  moving  softly  backwards 
with  the  grave  stateliness  of  a  vanishing  yet 
beckoning  goddess,  until  she  reached  the 
sumach-bush  from  which  she  had  emerged. 
He  followed.  Another  backward  step,  and 
it  yielded  to  let  her  through ;  but  even  as  it 
did  so  she  caught  him  in  her  arms,  and  for 
a  single  moment  it  closed  upon  them  both, 
and  hid  them  in  its  glory.  A  still  lingering 
song-bird,  possibly  convinced  that  he  had 
mistaken  the  season,  and  that  spring  had 
really  come,  flew  out  with  a  little  cry  to 


A  WARD  OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      239 

carry  the  message  south ;  but  even  then 
Paul  and  Yerba  emerged  with  such  inno 
cent,  childlike  gravity,  and,  side  by  side, 
walked  so  composedly  towards  the  house, 
that  he  thought  better  of  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IT  was  only  the  third  time  they  had  ever 
met  —  did  Paul  consider  that  when  he 
thought  her  cold  ?  Did  he  know  now  why 
she  had  not  understood  him  at  Rosario? 
Did  he  understand  now  how  calculating  and 
selfish  he  had  seemed  to  her  that  night? 
Could  he  look  her  in  the  face  now  —  no, 
he  must  be  quiet  —  they  were  so  near  the 
house,  and  everybody  could  see  them !  —  and 
say  that  he  had  ever  believed  her  capable 
of  making  up  that  story  of  the  Arguel- 
los?  Could  he  not  have  guessed  that  she 
had  some  memory  of  that  name  in  her  child 
ish  recollections,  how  or  where  she  knew 
not?  Was  it  strange  that  a  daughter 
should  have  an  instinct  of  her  father  ?  Was 
it  kind  to  her  to  know  all  this  himself  and 
yet  reveal  nothing  ?  Because  her  mother 
and  father  had  quarreled,  and  her  mother 
had  run  away  with  somebody  and  left  her  a 
ward  to  strangers — was  that  to  be  concealed 
from  her,  and  she  left  without  a  name  ? 


A  WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.      241 

This,  and  much  more,  tenderly  reproachful, 
bewildering  and  sweetly  illogical,  yet  inex 
pressibly  dear  to  Paul,  as  they  walked  on  in 
the  gloaming. 

More  to  the  purpose,  however,  the  fact 
that  Briones,  as  far  as  she  knew,  did  not 
know  her  mother,  and  never  before  the  night 
at  Strudle  Bad  had  ever  spoken  of  her. 
Still  more  to  the  purpose,  that  he  had  dis 
appeared  after  an  interview  with  the  colonel 
that  night,  and  that  she  believed  always 
that  the  colonel  had  bought  him  off.  It 
was  not  with  her  money.  She  had  some 
times  thought  that  the  colonel  and  he  were 
in  confidence,  and  that  was  why  she  had 
lately  distrusted  Pendleton.  But  she  had 
refused  to  take  the  name  of  Arguello  again 
after  that  scene,  and  had  called  herself  only 
by  the  name  he  had  given  her  —  would  he 
forgive  her  for  ever  speaking  of  it  as  she 
had  ?  —  Yerba  Buena.  But  on  shipboard, 
at  Milly's  suggestion,  and  to  keep  away 
from  Briones,  her  name  had  appeared  on 
the  passenger  list  as  Miss  Good>  and  they 
had  come,  not  to  New  York,  but  Boston. 

It  was  possible  that  the  colonel  had  ex 
tracted  the  information  he  sent  her  from 
Briones.  They  had  parted  from  Pendleton 


242      A  WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

in  London,  as  lie  was  grumpy  and  queer, 
and,  as  Milly  thought,  becoming  very  mi 
serly  and  avaricious  as  he  grew  older,  for  he 
was  always  quarreling  over  the  hotel  bills. 
But  he  had  Mrs.  Woods's  New  York  address 
at  Under  Cliff,  and,  of  course,  guessed  where 
she  was.  There  was  no  address  on  his  let 
ter  :  he  had  said  he  would  write  again. 

Thus  much  until  they  reached  the  steps 
of  the  veranda,  and  Milly,  flying  down,  was 
ostentatiously  overwhelmed  with  the  unex 
pected  appearance  of  Mr.  Paul  Hathaway 
and  Yerba,  whom  she  had  been  watching 
from  the  window  for  the  last  ten  minutes. 
Then  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Woods,  Cali- 
fornian  and  reminiscent,  and  Mrs.  Woods, 
metropolitan,  languid,  and  forgetful,  and 
the  sudden  and  formal  retirement  of  the 
girls.  An  arch  and  indefinable  mystery  in 
the  air  whenever  Paul  and  Yerba  appeared 
together  —  of  which  even  the  servants  were 
discreetly  conscious. 

At  dinner  Mr.-  Woods  again  became  ret 
rospective  and  Calif ornian,  and  dwelt  upon 
the  changes  he  had  noticed.  It  appeared 
the  old  pioneers  had  in  few  cases  attained  a 
comfortable  fortune  for  their  old  age.  "I 
know,"  he  added,  "  that  your  friend  Colonel 


A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      243 

Penclleton  has  dropped  a  good  deal  of  money 
over  in  Europe.  Somebody  told  me  that  he 
actually  was  reduced  to  take  a  steerage  pas 
sage  home.  It  looks  as  if  he  might  gamble 
—  it 's  an  old  Californian  complaint."  As 
Paul,  who  had  become  suddenly  grave  again, 
did  not  speak,  Mrs.  Woods  reminded  them 
that  she  had  always  doubted  the  colonel's 
moral  principles.  Old  as  he  was,  he  had 
never  got  over  that  freedom  of  life  and  so 
cial  opinion  which  he  had  imbibed  in  early 
days.  For  her  part,  she  was  very  glad  he 
had  not  returned  from  Europe  with  the 
girls,  though,  of  course,  the  presence  of  Don 
Csesar  and  his  sister  during  their  European 
sojourn  was  a  corrective.  As  Paul's  face 
grew  darker  during  this  languid  criticism, 
Yerba,  who  had  been  watching  it  with  a 
new  and  absorbing  sympathy,  seized  the  first 
moment  when  they  left  the  table  to  inter 
rogate  him  with  heartbreaking  eyes. 

"  You  don't  think,  Paul,  that  the  colonel 
is  really  poor  ?  " 

"  God  only  knows,"  said  Paul.  "  I  trem 
ble  to  think  how  that  scoundrel  may  have 
bled  him." 

"  And  all  for  me !  Paul,  dear,  you  know 
you  were  saying  in  the  woods  that  you  would 


244      A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

never,  never  touch  my  money.  What "  — 
exultingly  —  "  if  we  gave  it  to  him  ?  " 

What  answer  Paul  made  did  not  trans 
pire,  for  it  seemed  to  have  been  indicated 
by  an  interval  of  profound  silence. 

But  the  next  morning,  as  he  and  Mr. 
Woods  were  closeted  in  the  library,  Yerba 
broke  in  upon  them  with  a  pathetic  face 
and  a  telegram  in  her  hand.  "  Oh,  Paul  — 
Mr.  Hathaway  —  it  9s  true  !  " 

Paul  seized  the  telegram  quickly :  it  had 
no  signature,  only  the  line :  "  Colonel  Pen- 
dleton  is  dangerously  ill  at  St.  John's  Hos 
pital." 

"  I  must  go  at  once,"  said  Paul,  rising. 

"  Oh,  Paul "  —  imploringly  —  "  let  me  go 
with  you!  I  should  never  forgive  myself 
if  —  and  it 's  addressed  to  me,  and  what 
would  he  think  if  I  did  n't  come  ?  " 

Paul  hesitated.  ,"  Mrs.  Woods  will  let 
Milly  go  with  us  —  and  she  can  stay  at  the 
hotel.  Say  yes,"  she  continued,  seeking  his 
eyes  eagerly. 

He  consented,  and  in  half  an  hour  they 
were  in  the  train  for  New  York.  Leaving 
Milly  at  the  hotel,  ostensibly  in  deference 
to  the  Woods's  prejudices,  but  really  to 
save  the  presence  of  a  third  party  at  this 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      245 

meeting,  Paul  drove  with  Yerba  rapidly  to 
the  hospital.  They  were  admitted  to  an 
anteroom.  The  house  surgeon  received 
them  respectfully,  but  doubtingly.  The  pa 
tient  was  a  little  better  this  morning,  but 
very  weak.  There  was  a  lady  now  with  him 
—  a  member  of  a  religious  and  charitable 
guild,  who  had  taken  the  greatest  interest  in 
him  —  indeed,  she  had  wished  to  take  him 
to  her  own  home  —  but  he  had  declined  at 
first,  and  now  he  was  too  weak  to  be  re 
moved. 

"  But  I  received  this  telegram :  it  must 
have  been  sent  at  his  request,"  protested 
Yerba. 

The  house  surgeon  looked  at  the  beauti 
ful  face.  He  was  mortal.  He  would  see  if 
the  patient  was  able  to  stand  another  inter 
view  ;  possibly  the  regular  visitor  might 
withdraw. 

When  he  had  gone,  an  attendant  volun 
teered  the  information  that  the  old  gentle 
man  was  perhaps  a  little  excited  at  times. 
He  was  a  wonderful  man  ;  he  had  seen  a 
great  deal ;  he  talked  much  of  California 
and  the  early  days ;  he  was  very  interesting. 
Ah,  it  would  be  all  right  now  if  the  doctor 
found  him  well  enough,  for  the  lady  was  al- 


246     A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

ready  going  —  that  was  she,  coming  through 
the  hall. 

She  came  slowly  towards  them  —  erect, 
gray,  grim  —  a  still  handsome  apparition. 
Paul  started.  To  his  horror,  Yerba  ran  im 
pulsively  forward,  and  said  eagerly  :  "  Is  he 
better  ?  Can  he  see  us  now  ?  " 

The  woman  halted  an  instant,  seemed  to 
gather  the  prayer-book  and  reticule  she  was 
carrying  closer  to  her  breast,  but  was  other 
wise  unchanged.  Keplying  to  Paul  rather 
than  the  young  girl,  she  said  rigidly :  "  The 
patient  is  able  to  see  Mr.  Hathaway  and 
Miss  Yerba  Buena,"  and  passed  slowly  on. 
But  as  she  reached  the  door  she  unloosed 
her  black  mourning  veil  from  her  bonnet, 
and  seemed  to  drop  it  across  her  face  with 
the  gesture  that  Paul  remembered  she  had 
used  twelve  years  ago. 

"  She  frightens  me !  "  said  Yerba,  turn 
ing  a  suddenly  startled  face  on  Paul.  "  Oh, 
Paul,  I  hope  it  isn't  an  omen,  but  she 
looked  like  some  one  from  the  grave !  " 

"  Hush !  "  said  Paul,  turning  away  a  face 
that  was  whiter  than  her  own.  "  They  are 
coming  now." 

The  house  surgeon  had  returned  a  trifle 
graver.  They  might  see  him  now,  but  they 


A  WARD   OF  THE  GOLDEN  GATE.      247 

must  be  warned  that  he  wandered  at  times 
a  little  ;  and,  if  he  might  suggest,  if  it  was 
anything  of  family  importance,  they  had 
better  make  the  most  of  their  time  and  his 
lucid  intervals.  Perhaps  if  they  were  old 
friends  —  very  old  friends  —  he  would  rec 
ognize  them.  He  was  wandering  much  in 
the  past  —  always  in  the  past. 

They  found  him  in  the  end  of  the  ward, 
but  so  carefully  protected  and  partitioned 
off  by  screens  that  the  space  around  his  cot 
had  all  the  privacy  and  security  of  an  apart 
ment.  He  was  very  much  changed  ;  they 
would  scarcely  have  known  him,  but  for  the 
delicately  curved  aquiline  profile  and  the 
long  white  moustache  —  now  so  faint  and 
etherealized  as  to  seem  a  mere  spirit  wing 
that  rested  on  his  pillow.  To  their  surprise 
he  opened  his  eyes  with  a  smile  of  perfect 
recognition,  and,  with  thin  fingers  beyond 
the  coverlid,  beckoned  to  them  to  approach. 
Yet  there  was  still  a  shadow  of  his  old  re 
serve  in  his  reception  of  Paul,  and,  although 
one  Land  interlocked  the  fingers  of  Yerba  — 
who  had  at  first  rushed  impulsively  forward 
and  fallen  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed  — 
and  the  other  softly  placed  itself  upon  her 
head,  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  young 


248      A   WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE. 

man's   with  the  ceremoniousness   due   to  a 
stranger. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see,  sir,"  he  began  in  a 
slow,  broken,  but  perfectly  audible  voice, 
"  that  now  you  are  —  satisfied  with  the 
right  —  of  this  young  lady  —  to  bear  the 
name  of  —  Arguello  —  and  her  relationship 

—  sir  —  to  one  of  the  oldest  "  — 

"  But,  my  dear  old  friend,"  broke  out 
Paul,  earnestly,  "  I  never  cared  for  that  — 
I  beg  you  to  believe  "  — 

fct  He  never  —  never  —  cared  for  it  — 
dear,  dear  colonel,"  sobbed  Yerba,  passion 
ately  :  "  it  was  all  my  fault  —  he  thought 
only  of  me  —  you  wrong  him  !  " 

"  /  think  otherwise,"  said  the  colonel, 
with  grim  and  relentless  deliberation.  "I 
have  a  vivid  —  impression  —  sir  —  of  an 

—  interview   I   had    with  you  —  at   the  St. 
Charles  — where  you  .said  "  —      He  was  si 
lent  for  a  moment,  and  then  in  a  quite  dif 
ferent  voice  called  faintly  — 

"  George !  " 

Paul  and  Yerba  glanced  quickly  at  each 
other. 

"  George,  set  out  some  refreshment  for 
the  Honorable  Paul  Hathaway.  The  best, 
sir  —  you  understand.  ...  A  good  nigger, 


A  WARD   OF  THE   GOLDEN  GATE.      249 

sir  —  a  good  boy ;  and  he  never  leaves  me, 
sir.  Only,  by  gad  !  sir,  he  will  starve  him 
self  and  his  family  to  be  with  me.  I  brought 
him  with  me  to  California  away  back  in  the 
fall  of  'forty-nine.  Those  were  the  early 
days,  sir  —  the  early  days." 

His  head  had  fallen  back  quite  easily  on 
the  pillow  now ;  but  a  slight  film  seemed  to 
be  closing  over  his  dark  eyes,  like  the  inner 
lid  of  an  eagle  when  it  gazes  upon  the  sun. 

"  They  were  the  old  days,  sir  —  the  days 
of  Men  —  when  a  man's  word  was  enough 
for  anything,  and  his  trigger-finger  settled 
any  doubt.  When  the  Trust  that  he  took 
from  Man,  Woman,  or  Child  was  never 
broken.  When  the  tide,  sir,  that  swept 
through  the  Golden  Gate  came  up  as  far  as 
Montgomery  Street." 

He  did  not  speak  again.  But  they  who 
stood  beside  him  knew  that  the  tide  had 
once  more  come  up  to  Montgomery  Street, 
and  was  carrying  Harry  Pendleton  away 
with  it. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


2E  M/m'finnibB 

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24Aug'60MW 

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LD  21A-50m-4,'59 
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General  Library 

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DOXEY 

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